Connectivity
by Private Eyes
Summary: A spin-off story set fifty years after the events of Halo 3. Starring a new cast of original characters. As humanity attempts to rebuild what they have lost during the Human-Covenant war, civil unrest and rebellion sweeps across the stars once again. To quell the growing fire, the legendary warriors of old have once again been deployed. Project ORION II has been reborn.
1. Chapter 1- Dust and Echoes

_**Dust and Echoes**_

 _23 June, 2616_

 _UNSC Controlled World: Emerald Cove_

Captain 096 stood before the hazy horizon scanning the land before him with unblinking eyes. This place sure has seen better days. His blue and silver armor gleamed, capturing the pale, sickly light of the sun shining through clouds of smoke and dust. The orders had been clear enough; there was nothing to do now but see what was left to save in this desolate city.

Marching through the rubble he idly listened to the echo of his own footfalls reverberate throughout the silent ruin. Buildings, offices, and skyscrapers of all types crumbled from the outside, some standing before severed parts of other structures as if they were fallen soldiers. Not even the wind seemed to stir. Ninety-six looked down into the palm of his hand; in it laid four pairs of dog tags. On them were engraved the simple numbers: S-022, S-034, S-057, and S-123. But that wasn't what he read; names scratched on each, crudely done with a knife on their backsides. Something only known to him.

 _Mikaela, Summer, Giovanni, Jay..._

He made his grip tighter on the tags and marched forward solemnly, pausing every now and then to watch the motion tracker in the lower left corner of his helmet's visor. Still, nothing. Bloodied corpses littered the street like road kill on a highway; slaughtered like animals. The Spartan knelt down next to a fallen soldier, barely twenty years old by the looks of him.

"Rest well, marine," he whispered to the body, sliding his thumb and forefinger over his eyelids.

 _Beep_.

The sound of the motion tracker startled him and made him jump to his feet.

 _Beep_.

It was louder, stronger now. _**Life**_. He sprinted towards the direction where the dot was on his tracker, hoping he wouldn't be too late.

Selena Ackerson woke in a daze, the dust filled air of her workplace distorting her vision. She breathed in sharply as she slowly sat herself up against her overturned desk, taking in the room. It was the picture of pure chaos; small fires raged all over the room, rubble littered the floor and blocked off entire sections of the building's interior. The only light came from the fires that blazed feebly in the dark.

"Jenny? Michael? Is anyone there?" Selena called out. No answer came. She started to push herself from her sitting position on the floor.

"Is anyone- AGH!"

A pipe dangling above her broke apart and fell on her, impaling her through her lower back and out through her stomach. Selena fell back to the ground, pain blossoming from her left hip and spread across her body. She looked down at her stomach and saw a large piece of jagged, twisted metal had been run straight through her. Blood seeped around the sides of the wound, gushing out down her leg and forming a puddle underneath her.

"No! Oh God, oh Hell, somebody, he- DAMMIT!" She screamed again, louder, feeling the life steadily leaving her battered frame. If she closed her eyes again, there was a good chance she would never open them again.

Selena dug her nails into the floor and tried to drag herself forward towards the doorway. It felt as if crushed glass had seeped into her veins and was steadily moving through her body, making every inch of her insides burn and feel as if they were being ripped apart. She fought the urge to scream again and pulled herself one last time with all her strength. The corners of her vision were fading and ghostly forms began to fill the dimly lit space. She stared at them for a moment and finally realized who it was.

"Jennifer!" She breathed weakly. "Thank god you're okay. Help me up, I'm bleeding badly." Jennifer didn't move, standing with her back to her.

"Jennifer," Selena coughed, "please, I need your help." Still no response, not even a slight movement. Then she began to fade away, only to be replaced by all her other co workers. Tears swelled in her eyes as the reality dawned on her. _I'm losing it, I'm completely losing it. I...there's no one coming._ Her right hand curled up in front of her face, blood still soaking the palm and undersides of her fingers.

Blinking her eyes, the surreal images of her friends were gone. Instead, something she hadn't seen in years stood in their place. A little boy, about six years old, smiling, stood over her innocently. She thought she recognized him, but couldn't place him. _Who are you?_ Selena stretched her hand out to touch him, but the boy backed away, walking towards the door.

"I'm not ready to die. I can't...I..." As her eyes began to close one last time, the boy grew larger, more defined, and far taller than he had been. Through her darkening view, she saw a man, clad in dark blue armor, his features fuzzy and indiscernible. Selena raised her hand up an inch from the ground in a final attempt to plead for help, whispering one last word, and then there was nothing but the comforting embrace of complete darkness...

Spartan 096 looked down at the woman desperately clinging to what little life her mangled body still held. Her right hand stretched out to reach for him and the faintest whisper escaped her lips:

"Please."

Then she collapsed. Quickly he knelt down next to her and pressed his right middle and index fingers against the side of her neck to double check his suit's vitals scans. She was unconscious, for now at least. Without proper treatment, she would die within an hour. Luckily for the dying woman, the Captain was a veteran field medic for almost fifteen years of his life.

First came the removal of the foreign object lodged into the civilian's lower abdomen. As he expected, the wound immediately gushed dark crimson. He pressed his left hand hard against the opening, reaching into one of his belt pouches to grab two HemCon patches, along with a small packet. Roughly measuring the diameter of the entry and exit wounds on the woman's abdomen, his two-by-two inch patches would be more than sufficient in sealing the wound and saving what little blood might be left in his patient's body. The Spartan ripped off the tattered end of her shirt and quickly tore open the packet to produce a small alcohol wipe, rubbing it the entry and exit wounds roughly before pressing the patches to her bloodied skin. He discarded the scarlet-stained wipe, letting it settle against the dirty floor.

 _That'll hold you for now_ he thought. _But you're still going to need stitches_.

The only reason he would use the HemCons was for instances where he didn't have the necessary equipment to stop a person from bleeding out. Unfortunately, this was one of those circumstances. On the bright side, most of the negatives of the thermodynamic nature of the patches had been worked out centuries ago, meaning that Sierra 096 didn't have to worry about more harm coming to his patient from the patches' application. He finished by wrapping one thick, white bandage around her abdomen tightly, then checked her vitals again to insure she was still breathing. She was, faintly.

Something caught his eye as he reexamined his unconscious patient; a trace of brown in the pool of blood that the woman laid on top of. The improvised doctor reached back into his suit's integrated belt again, this time for a small pH analyzer and dipped it into the puddle. When he brought it back up to read, the acidity level read eleven.

 _No!_

Cleaning off the analyzer with a cloth the Spartan replaced the device and brought out a syringe gun. He wiped off the woman's arm with more rubbing alcohol and pressed it against it, squeezing its trigger to take another sample. The readout read:

 _Blood acidity level: 12_

 _Abnormal amount of Fe present in bloodstream_

Shrapnel. He had less time than he had originally thought.

 _Sodium Phosphate, where the Hell is my Sodium Phosphate...Aha!_

He quickly stabbed a needle into the arm he had just probed and pumped a large amount of the acid neutralizer into her bloodstream, already knowing that it wouldn't be enough. The shrapnel was still in her, and she would need daily doses of painkillers and Sodium Phosphate to keep her blood levels at seven point thirty-five pH, seven point forty-five at the most. He needed more equipment; the _proper_ equipment. What he was given was good and his training had been extensive during his childhood years on Reach, but he had to admit that even he couldn't save this young woman's life without the right tools. And there was only one place to find those tools: the city's hospital, if it still had enough functioning equipment to even be worth a damn.

Sierra 096 finally allowed himself to have a few moments of respite as he checked the comm channels on his helmet's HUD. They were all still filled with loud crackling static. He frowned, thinking. _Two objectives at opposite ends of this rubble pile of a city._ The hospital was twenty-five miles west of his current location, while the radio antennae he saw while making his way down towards the heart of the ruin itself, was fifty miles east. To save this woman, he was going to have to backtrack a longer distance than he would have liked to. Sprinting wasn't the problem; he could clear twenty-five miles and still have enough energy for a dozen more sprints at the same length. No, it was the fact that he was going to have to keep a civilian safe while he did that, with those abominations that had killed the squad of marines he had tried to save still running rampant throughout the streets. He wasn't even sure she would be able to tell him anything about the outbreak, or about the initial carpet bombing that ensued shortly after.

Sighing, the dark blue Spartan swept a long, grime covered lock of blonde hair from his newest responsibility's face. _Blonde hair._ He remembered his friend Summer, her death fresh in his mind. Like this woman, she had had blonde hair, but it was much shorter of course. Wiping away the soot and grime with the back of his gauntlet, an attractive face was revealed.

There was something different about this one. But he couldn't quite place what it was.He shook his head then carefully slid his arms underneath the unconscious woman and lifted her up steadily, cradling her against his chest piece as if she were a doll and carrying her out silently.

When Kyle stepped out of the office building night was already descending on the ruined landscape. He considered sprinting the twenty five miles he needed to go to get to the district's hospital; going at his full speed of forty-five miles per hour, he would reach it in less than half an hour. With a sleeping patient that was akin to a time bomb and a city full of parasitic abominations however, he would have to find a shelter for now.

He looked around himself quickly and decided on a largely intact hotel. _Intact_ he laughed to himself. The only thing intact about the building was its first floor. Everything else had been blasted to Hell. The Captain gingerly hefted the unconscious woman over his left shoulder and walked toward the front doors, placing his palm against the closest of the two. It creaked open easily enough.

 _Not my first choice for a secure shelter, but it'll do for one night._

The Captain picked his way through the debris littered hallways, scanning each room with his eyes. Once he found a suitable bed for his "luggage", he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. There were two leather armchairs inside with one king-sized bed. Surprisingly, it was untouched by the havoc that had consumed everything outside its confines. He laid her down on the bed then sat back in one of the armchairs. It was too comfortable for his liking however, and he opted to sit on the floor and lean his back against the wall instead.

 _Civilians and their wasteful luxuries_.

As he began to drift off to sleep for the first time in a week, he double checked that his suit's neural shock alarm was set. It wasn't as painful as it sounded; it was only meant to jolt him out of sleep in case of hostile movement within a one-hundred yard radius of his position. The neural alarm feature was still relatively new, so he hoped it was worth the millions of credits he was sure ONI had wasted on its development.

Satisfied that the room was temporarily secure and that his patient was still blissfully unconscious, he finally closed his eyes and drifted off to somewhere as black and empty as space itself.

 _24 June, 2616_

 _City of Adros, UNSC world: Emerald Cove_

 _0600 hours_

Selena groggily awoke, her head buzzing as if she had had a bad hangover. She had never drank in her life but she imagined this is what it must have felt like. Wiping her eyes with the back of her left hand, she looked at her surroundings. She was in a hotel room, though she didn't remember ever checking in to one before she had... _Wait, was that all a dream?_

She looked again, eyes darting from corner to corner of the room. It looked normal enough.

"Well, that's a relief," she said to herself. She rose to get up but felt a slight pain rise up from her stomach. When she looked down, she saw a long blood covered bandage wrapped around her whole lower abdomen. Her emerald eyes grew wide with disbelief.

"Oh no, oh Christ please don't be real, please don't be real..." She stumbled forward in panic, rushing to the room's bathroom and looked in the room's mirror. The woman that stared back at he was covered in soot, bits of rubble, and what looked like dark red paint. She knew better than to think that though. The only thing that looked normal was her face, which was clean for the most part except for a few black marks that looked like fingers on her left temple.

"Okay, alright," she was almost on the verge of screaming, "it was real, but I'm okay. I'm alive, but how did I get..." That's when she saw the abnormally large, armored individual slumped behind her. _Here_ she finished in her mind. For a long time she didn't move and just stood, transfixed on the reflection of what appeared to be a man completely encased in navy blue and silver colored armor.

A large knife sheath jutted outwards on his right shoulder, bent slightly at an angle so that it looked similar to a boomerang. There was a second smaller knife sheathed on his left collarbone, close to his neck. Two large leather and alloy mesh pouches covered the front of his chest plate: a blue stripe on the left pouch, a red stripe on the right.

Selena worked up enough courage to turn around to face the sleeping pile of armor. Curiosity had gotten the better of her fear. Slowly she stepped forward until her face was mere inches away from the man's helmet. The first thing she noticed was the iconic eagle insignia on the top of his helmet's sun visor. Underneath it was the all too familiar acronym: **UNSC**. She let out a breath of relief and studied the rest of the suit.

The armor looked beautiful to her, elegant in a strange, warlike way. It was chipped away and riddled with dents and long, wicked cuts, revealing the bare metal underneath. His entire form was covered in dirt and grime, with splashes of scarlet scattered all over. His forearms and hands were completely painted in crimson. It looked fresher than the other blood stains.

She furrowed her brow at that while she continued to control her urge to vomit at the site of it. The rest of the armor, the silvery steel parts, were covered in more dents and dried mud, along with a sickly green color that did indeed look like vomit, but smelled far worse. The last thing that caught her eye was a small symbol painted above the man's right collarbone: a bright red shield with a matte black spade shape inside it. Selena stared at it, contemplating what it meant or what it stood for.

"It's impolite to stare, ma'am," a hard, cold voice said. Selena froze and slowly tilted her head back up. The man's helmet was inches away from her, it's gold visor reflecting her wide eyed face back at her. She trembled, forgetting how to move or even speak. He nodded his head at her, gesturing for her to move back. Nervously she did so, standing up and walking backwards a few paces. The figure stood up steadily, and Selena's knees shook even more. The man towered over her; he must have been at least eight feet tall and looked extremely muscular, even with the armor covering the person inside.

"I um...I'm sorry," Selena stammered out. She must have looked so pathetic to him at that moment, but it was impossible to tell. He stood straight and tall, exuding strength and confidence, but showed no sign of emotion in his body language. It would have helped if she could see his face.

"Did you...did you do this?" she pointed to the bandage wrapped firmly around her waist. He nodded silently in response.

"And...okay, well you brought me here, and well...thank-" He held up his right hand before she could finish her sentence, shaking his head. _Okay, so he doesn't like thank you's, alright._

"Well, um, sir, my name's Selena Ackerson and-" the man held up his hand again, cutting her off.

"No time," he said in that same cold, unfeeling voice.

"Hey, could you at least let me just thank you and- what the Hell are you doing!?" she yelled as he stepped forward and scooped her up in his arms. He had done it so quickly she hadn't even had time to react until she was already over his left shoulder. The soldier walked briskly down the hall like someone who was late to a meeting but wanted to look like there was nothing wrong.

"The Hell's going on here!?" she yelled. He didn't answer and just kept walking at that same rushed pace.

"Say something!" she shrieked.

"Miss Ackerson, with all due respect, shut up," he said flatly.

"Well maybe you could put me down and let me wal-"

"You're in no condition to walk."

"What? I can walk just fine," she said angrily. Her savior wasn't making a good first impression on her from as far as she could tell. He stopped right in front of the exit and put her down on her feet, holding her in place by her arms.

"Are you going to explain what's going on or am I going to have to keep screaming like a mad woman to get you to say anything?" she asked impatiently. His gold visor stared blankly at her.

"The more you move, the faster your condition deteriorates. It's more efficient to carry you."

Before she could question him anymore, the soldier picked her up with his left hand again and tossed her over his shoulder in one fluid motion. With that he kicked open the door, knocking it off it's hinges and reached with his right hand to draw a large steel pistol from his right thigh. It looked far too large to ever be used by a normal human being, making her eyes widen a bit.

"Where are we?-" the wind was suddenly knocked out of her as the armor clad man took off in a dead sprint, her face suddenly flattening against the suit's smooth navy blue back. Everything passed by in a blur as the man ran impossibly fast, vaulting and jumping over debris and rubble like hurdles.

"We're getting you to the hospital," he answered her unfinished question, "and refrain from speaking anymore until we get there."

Kyle knew he would have problems with the civilian, but the lack of professional silence irritated him. He missed the company of his Spartans, or any serviceman for that matter, that knew what was expected and kept their mouths shut until spoken to by their CO. This Selena Ackerson wasn't as bad as he had thought she would be, granted, but the little formalities that she was accustomed too would slow him down.

He had been tempted to tell her about the iron flowing through her bloodstream like venom, or the fact that shrapnel was still lodged in various parts of her abdomen, but he decided against it. Miss Ackerson had already talked enough for his taste within the first five minutes of her regaining consciousness. Apparently he hadn't used enough sedatives to keep her under long enough. _Stop_ he scolded himself. _Anymore and she would have died anyway- be professional._

Kyle looked at his motion tracker every few seconds as he darted down the ruined asphalt, while simultaneously scanning ahead for obstacles and checking the distance to the waypoint he had placed on the hospital. _Estimated five miles, almost there._ He pushed himself a bit further until finally the building loomed overhead. Kyle skidded to a halt, allowing himself two seconds to breathe before stepping inside.

"Will you please put me down now," Selena breathed.

"Not yet," Kyle replied. She made a loud angry sigh from behind his head as he forced the hospital's doors open. Ruined inside, just as he expected it would be. Hopefully though the emergency rooms further along the building's length would be intact, along with the equipment he- and Selena- needed. She didn't know it, but she was only about two hours away from death. The things he had done to ease her pain and stop the bleeding were only a band-aid solution. It would take something far more invasive to permanently resolve the situation.

As he continued to hastily walk down the dimly lit hallways and corridors of the medical center, he thought back to the day before and the ghost- or whatever it was that had looked like Kaela. _Take care of her_ , she had said. Well, obviously he would, but what made her more important than just for the objectives he was told in his briefing?

A bright white light flickered from within a room about ten yards down the grime covered white hall way. Spartan 096 walked through its doorway to find exactly what he needed: an operating table surrounded by every instrument he could have hoped to have. The room was lined with cabinets which spanned from wall to wall, ceiling to floor with various drawers reading: **WARNING: HAZARDOUS MATERIALS** , **CAUTION: EXPERIMENTAL CHEMICAL TREATMENTS** , etc.

As the armor clad man sat Selena down on the operating table, she looked around nervously.

"Um...alright, um, mister?" He looked up at her while he was crouching down, inspecting the cupboards and raiding them for supplies.

"What, um...okay, what exactly is wrong with me?" Selena stammered out.

So far this day had been by far the strangest and most surreal of any day she had ever had. She never imagined that her home would be destroyed, or that some very strange, overly muscled man would whisk her away and actually give a damn about whether she lived or died. Considering how he talked to her, and how he _didn't_ talk, she was debating on whether or not her life did in fact matter.

His dark blue head tilted to the side, regarding her like she were a small child asking where babies came from. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking because of that damned gold plating covering his face. Finally he decided to indulge her curiosity.

"You had severe blood acidity from an abnormal amount of iron leaching into your body," he said in a monotone voice. He gestured with his gauntleted hand at her abdomen.

"The pipe that had impaled you when I found you had been deteriorating and rusting inside you. There's still trace amounts of it lodged in you, poisoning your blood. You'll be dead in less than an hour and a half if I don't operate now."

Presently he went back to rummaging through more cabinets, pulling out vials and spools of stitches. She sat and stared at him for a moment, trying to suppress a scream. _HOW CAN YOU BE SO FUCKING CALM ABOUT THIS!?_

"So," she gulped, fighting back the anger and overwhelming fear, "how many times have you operated on people for something like this?"

Her would be doctor walked up to the side of the operating table, placing everything he had gathered on a smaller table next to her. Then he walked over to the sink and started scrubbing his arms and hands furiously with what looked like alcohol and soap. It smelled like a mixed drink gone very, very wrong. When he came back his armor covering his forearms and hands was completely clean, which looked very out of place with the rest of the filth he was covered in.

"Forty-six," he answered, picking up a small syringe. It looked like a child's toy in his hands.

"How many-?"

"None of them died, ma'am," he cut her off. He pulled up her right arm's sleeve and wiped a small part of it with a cloth soaked in alcohol. Without warning her he slid the needle quickly into her skin, pumping her full of translucent liquid.

"You're going to live ma'am," she heard him say as she began to lose consciousness.

"Wha..what did you...?" she groggily asked. His outline began to blur until he was nothing but a blue fog.

"I'm going to get you out of here."

Was it just the drugs, or did he sound more sympathetic now? As she fell back into a familiar dark space, she thought she heard him say one more thing as the anesthetic worked its way to her heart.


	2. Chapter 2- Selena

_**Selena**_

 _24 June, 2616_

 _City of Adros, Adros Memorial Hospital_

 _1000 hours_

Kyle sat back in a dark corner of the operating room away from the white light shining down on his now completely fixed patient. He was proud despite himself. The Captain sat back, staring at the ceiling, unbelievably exhausted and ready to sleep again. Then something moved on his motion tracker. It was close, too close.

 _I'll sleep when I'm dead_.

He stood up quickly, gripping the handle of his shoulder knife with his left hand. Drawing it slowly from his sheath, he crouched down and treaded softly across the room, listening intently through his helmet's audio receptors. _It must have been sitting still for some time. I would have noticed it moving long before it got this close._ His eyes glanced down at the lower left hand corner of his helmet. The motion tracker read ten meters. Far too close. Swapping his knife from his left hand to his right, he skulked through the flickering lights of the hall outside the operating room. He kept turning and padding softly across the floor until the red blip on his radar was directly north of him. Then, it vanished.

 _Unlikely_ , he thought. He went forward three more meters, then heard an all too familiar sound. A low rumbling resonated down the hall. It sounded like words, but not quite; half formed and alien, as if they didn't belong to the mouth that made them.

Years ago, that sound may have unnerved him slightly. But now, the rasping alien voice only lit a fire in his heart as he remembered how he had lost so much to this abomination.

 _Come out and fight, parasite._

The Spartan lurched forward, skidding across the polished white floor as a shriek rang in his ears. Undeterred by the surprise assault, Ninety-six spun around on his hands and toes once while he slid across the floor to face what had attacked him, his shields humming faintly in his ear as they recharged partially from the hit.

In the flickering light of the hospital hallway stood a man, horribly deformed. His head was snapped back at a sharp angle, leaning to its right as if his neck had been nearly broken in half. Its mouth was wide open, an expression of uncontrollable fear frozen on the rest of its face. All that showed were the whites of his eyes, completely bloodshot so that it looked like the eyeballs themselves had been cut at a thousand different angles. The man's body was covered with sickly green, fleshy growths that protruded from his shredded clothing. He leaned to the right slightly, a combination of the mutilated muscles underneath his skin making it difficult to balance and the sharp, blade like bone that had grown from his left forearm stretching downward by four feet while he held it by his side.

As Kyle looked over the man's features, his eyes finally came to rest on what he was looking for; a quivering, fleshy, football shaped sack of pus that clung to the man's left collarbone and chest: the Flood infection form, carrier of the Flood parasite's mutagenic supercell.

Without hesitation the Spartan threw his knife at the Flood parasite, it's foot and a half long blade spinning end over end towards the now charging Flood soldier. The blade sank deep into the infection form's fragile back, spraying a combination of mucus colored pus and blood into the air and splattering over the walls, floor, and ceiling. The monstrosity fell with a loud thud, echoing down the hall. It's mouth still emanated a low rumbling noise, from pain, anger, or some other thing, Kyle couldn't discern what or why it did. The Flood, as he was taught, could feel no pain unless it had developed sufficient biomass to form a Gravemind. Without it, the Flood could not think or feel. So long as there was no Gravemind though, he could care less at the moment.

"You goddamn Hell spawn," he spat at the Floodified human as he reached down and yanked his knife free from it.

Sticky pus and blood dripped from it, forming thin strings that clung momentarily to the Flood body as he pulled it away. As he stared down at it, its bone-blade arm began to move again, trying to make a feeble attempt to cut the Spartan down while still on its back. Kyle promptly stomped down hard on the Flood's left arm, crushing its entire forearm beneath his armored boot. He lifted his foot back up again, then stomped three times on the Flood's chest. He continued for several more seconds until his foot stomped on nothing but a floor thinly covered by a sickly green and flesh colored pulp.

Kyle looked down again at the man's lifeless face, almost daring it to attempt to get up again. Satisfied that he had mutilated the corpse beyond the Flood's use, he wiped his blade off on his right thigh plate, smearing a fresh coat of blood and pus across the blue paint.

 _Beep._

He glanced down at his radar, then looked up, seeing the faint silhouette of a woman nervously walking down the hall towards him. _Stupid girl, you should have stayed in the room_ , he thought. 

"I just woke up and I heard this, this...noise," she spoke uneasily, her eyes trying to adjust to the flickering light.

"The anesthetic only lasted an hour," he said dismissively.

"I allowed you to sleep the extra ninety minutes to regain your strength from the operation. It wasn't nearly as invasive as I was expecting it to be," Kyle noted. He knew that wouldn't matter to her much though, she would just be glad to be alive.

"I appreciate the...WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?" she yelled, pointing at the pulverized body still lying beside his feet. The Spartan looked down at it, sighing audibly. Gesturing with his hand to follow, he said:

"Something that should have never seen the light of day. Come on, I assume you can walk and talk at the same time, Miss Ackerson?"

He turned his attention away from her while she tentatively stepped around the crumpled heap of flesh, trying not to stare. Looking up at the ceiling he found that there was a gaping hole in it, revealing the inside of a ventilation shaft. Kyle walked down the hall briskly, predicting where the shaft would lead. Soon he found himself facing a pitch black doorway left completely open with its double steel doors knocked violently off their hinges and lying haphazardly across the floor. They were completely wracked with dents and long uneven gashes.

 _Well well, what do we have here?_ He took a step across the threshold before Selena's voice stopped him.

"So, um, sir, who exactly are you?" she asked.

"I'm a Spartan ma'am," he responded simply, his thoughts now completely on the pitch black room he stood in front of. Kyle turned around to give his full attention to the woman behind him. If he humored her for a brief time by answering her questions, perhaps she would be somewhat satisfied and let him continue his investigation in silence.

"That's not really a name," Selena said, "that's a job title." She crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly.

"Yes. I am aware," he said flatly. She frowned and rolled her eyes. He sighed.

"You may simply refer to me as Spartan, Ninety-six, or Captain, if that satisfies your need for a name for me ma'am."

"That's great, but it's still not a _name_ ," she retorted.

"Spartans don't have names ma'am. We have numbers and rank," he replied patiently. It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the truth either.

"That's a load of bullshit. I've seen Spartan IVs on the news, and they've all had names," she tapped her fingers against one of her crossed arms impatiently.

At this point the Spartan turned around and walked into the room, feeling the wall on the right side of the doorway for a light switch. He half expected it to not work, but was pleased when he slid his fingers across it and flipped it that the lights blazed to life.

"Perhaps you shouldn't assume that I'm one of your Spartan IVs ma'am," the Captain stated as he slowly studied the room. Spilled vials and blood were splattered across the floor and walls along with broken glass and ruined equipment. A large bulkhead door stood ajar at the far end of the room. It showed no signs of being forced open. _Strange_ , he thought.

The Captain looked over the tables lining the walls and the island that dominated the center of the room, looking for anything that might give him more insight into the events that had transpired here. There was nothing but a large disheveled mess of more surgical equipment and notes written on plain pieces of paper. Their words were beyond understanding after being covered with spilled chemicals, smearing whatever was written on them.

"Alright," Selena said, trying to regain his attention. Kyle turned his head halfway towards her with his back still to her.

"What do you mean, "one of my Spartan IVs?" I thought all Spartans were IVs," she said, confused.

"Then you've been deceived like so many others who believe the defectors," Kyle said plainly.

"Defectors? What? But...but...What the Hell are you talking about?! I'm a citizen of the United Earth Government! I abide by the UNSC's laws, and last I checked, the Spartan IVs are UNSC soldiers. So whatever the fuck you're talking about you'd better explain fast or-" She stopped abruptly as he closed the distance between him and her in a single second. His gold visor was only an inch away from her face. Selena's eyes widened.

"Don't you ever, under any circumstance, use that language to speak to me, _civilian_ ," he said coldly, the slightest hint of anger in his voice. He took a step back and crossed his arms, looking down on her.

"I'm a Spartan II. I serve the UNSC under ONI's Section Three. The Spartans you've seen; all the UNSC troops you think you've seen are all, in actuality, rebels. Defectors. Insurrectionists. They've turned their back on the UNSC and everything it stood for and are lying to you and everyone else who lives in their territories," the Spartan finished pointedly, annoyed at her ignorance.

"That...that makes no sense," she whispered to herself, rubbing her head with the palms of her hands.

"Why would they lie to us? What would they gain?"

"Your loyalty, resources, support; everything they needed all by deceiving you and every other innocent person they can. They need some way to fund their military and recruit more soldiers Miss Ackerson."

"I..." she thought back to every soldier she had seen, remembering the news reports of dozens of worlds being attacked relentlessly. And now she was being told that she had been supporting the wrong side? It was too much to take in all at once.

She hated the war. The whole idea of senseless killing being somehow justified by some greater purpose sickened her almost as much as seeing the casualty reports. Selena did her best not to think about any of it. Being in the middle of a war zone now however put her in a position she never wanted to be in. Most of all, it forced her to accept the reality of it all. She couldn't shut it out and hide from it anymore, and it scared her half to death knowing it. A shiver ran through her body.

"What do we do now then?" she finally asked.

"We?" the Spartan asked, "there is no _we_. You will do exactly as I say, stay close to me, and live long enough to get off world," he said in a commanding voice.

"Alright, fine," Selena said indignantly.

"What will _you_ do, then?"

"Protect you with my life, carry out my mission," Kyle answered, as if it should have been obvious to her.

He turned to examine the bulkhead door. _Now why would a civilian hospital need a room like this?_ he pondered.

"I still don't understand why you would go to the lengths you did to keep me alive; not that I'm complaining," she admitted.

"Why I did should be obvious to you," Kyle pushed open the partially open bulkhead door and took a step inside, turning back to Selena.

"All you need to know now is that I'm here to get you out of this pile of rubble." He turned away again and examined his surroundings.

The room had no lights functioning so he relied on his helmets night vision to see. His eyes rested on a single glass incubation unit about four feet tall and three feet wide that was tightly sealed into a wall slot, perfectly cylindrical and filled with translucent fluid. With augmented eyes, he thought he saw something disturbingly familiar within it.

Frowning, he turned on his helmet's spot lamps. Brilliant beams of light shone from either side of his helmet toward the incubation wall unit. His fists clenched tightly as soon as the light revealed his worst suspicion.

Selena looked at him, then towards where the rays of revealing light shone upon. She tried her best not to let the repulsion and fear on her face show as she stared at the large, fleshy green, misshapen football creature inside the glass cylinder. It floated there lifelessly, it's six skinny spider-like legs spread out underneath it peacefully. Two longer tendrils stretched out past its legs, ending with dark skin colored barbs that looked like oversized capillaries.

"What...what is that thing?" she gulped, breathing slowly to calm herself.

"A parasite," Kyle answered her through gritted teeth. He walked towards the wall unit, resting his hands on the computer console connected to the unit. His fingers flew across the touch screen interface as he spoke.

"It's called 'The Flood.'"

"What do you know about it?" Selena walked towards the glass tube, peering in at the Flood parasite. It twitched slightly as if it had been dreaming.

"It latches onto its victims and uses them as puppets," he said as he typed away on the interface.

"In order for the parasite to replicate it uses the host body's calcium contained within its cells and creates more infection forms...the _thing_ ," he spat, disgusted, "that you're looking at right now." Selena took a step back nervously.

"So, the thing that you killed in the hallway outside was-"

"Yes. A person infected and converted by the Flood." He cursed under his breath as the console beeped angrily at him.

Absently he reached into one of the pouches on his belt and produced a small device that resembled a flash drive. He spun around in the palm of his hand as he flipped a switch on it. Two small steel spikes slid out smoothly from within the device and he stabbed it into the interface, causing electricity to surge through it. The computer flashed brightly: _Security override accepted. Encryption protocols removed. Redacted files on this database are now available to you ONI agent. Download in progress..._

Selena walked over to the Spartan and tried to peer over his shoulder, which was a bit difficult since he stood a full three feet taller than her.

"How does it change people to be so...monstrous?"

"The Flood mutagenic supercell works quickly to convert its chosen host to a living weapon," Kyle explained as if he had spent his entire life studying the organism's genetics and physiology.

"The Flood is ravenously hungry and violent by nature, and therefore modifies its stolen body to defend itself and hunt for more food for its fellow Flood parasites. The shapes that the infection form changes a body to can differ depending on the condition of the host chosen, as well as the species of it. Sentient hosts are selected exclusively."

"Only sentient?" she asked, piecing together the facts in her mind. The Spartan nodded, still staring down at the console. Electricity crackled occasionally along its surface as everything on its hard drive was downloaded and stored on the memory unit.

"The Flood uses the knowledge of its host to improve its odds of survival, coupled with its unnatural strength and primal instincts. The memories of the host are lost and the knowledge is withheld and used. But..." Kyle trailed off as the computer shut down on its own. He yanked his memory unit free, leaving two perfect holes in the touch screen interface that spread cracks all across its surface like a spider web. Then he slid it into a slot on his left forearm that Selena had not noticed before when she had looked at him the previous day. There was a small computer screen on his arm that had been dark and lifeless up until now.

Now it flashed to life with an orange glow as it ripped the information from the memory unit and downloaded it into his armor. He tapped the computer on his forearm a few times during the process, then pulled out the device from the slot after a minute and slid it back in his belt. Selena thought about asking what he had just done, but wanted to know what he was going to say before he had paused.

"But what?" she urged him on.

"But," he sighed loudly, "if the Flood obtains sufficient biomass, it becomes something far more formidable."

Selena tried to think of something more terrible than a monstrous parasite that could turn everyone she knew and loved into an abomination, that knew everything they had known and multiplied at an alarming rate. She couldn't even begin to think of how it could be worse.

"I...what happens?" she asked, curiosity overcoming trepidation.

"If the Flood multiplies enough and gains enough hosts for food, they begin to develop true intelligence and form an omniscient, fully sentient mind," Kyle turned toward her and said in a very low voice, "We call it _The Gravemind_. Every memory of everything that has ever been consumed by the Flood, from the past and from the present, is stored in the Gravemind's mind. It truly knows _everything_. It remembers _everything_. If it were to create enough Flood soldiers, if it were to manifest itself fully within every mind of the Flood parasites, we would all perish."

Selena couldn't control herself anymore. She fell to her knees, trembling. She had been looking at that, that _thing_ floating so peacefully in that fluid, staring at it like it was some sort of zoo animal when it could so easily kill every single human being on the planet and steal their memory. And if there was a Gravemind like the Spartan had said they could form...

"We're all going to die, aren't we?" she choked back a sob, shaking uncontrollably.

Kyle looked down at her, not sure of how to handle this new development. He had never had to deal with a person cracking under pressure in his fourteen years of military service. Yet as he stared down at this complete stranger falling apart, a brief feeling of sympathy washed over him. It felt alien but at the same time, old. Like it had always been there, but was just forgotten. Before he realized it he had knelt down silently beside Selena and put his right hand tenderly on her left shoulder.

"Hey," he whispered. She stopped trembling slowly, and looked at him. Her dark emerald eyes were red and watery all around their edges. They held a look of deep, utter hopelessness and despair.

"Wha-what?" she asked half-heartedly in between sobs.

"You're going to live," he said as comforting as he could, patting her shoulder gently.

"How do you know that? How can you be so certain with all those, those, _things_ out there?" Another tear ran down the side of her face, its watery trail shimmering in the light from the Spartan's spot lamps.

"Because it's what I was trained to do. It's my duty, ma'am." Kyle put his right arm around her shoulders and with his left he took her hand and brought her steadily to her feet. Selena stood uneasily and fell to the side, leaning against the Spartan's chest. It felt very unnatural and awkward to him. He fought the urge to shrug her off and let her lean against him. _If it makes her feel better, let her stay like that. Anything that makes it easier for me to get her off world._

Suddenly she pulled away and started wiping away tears furiously, embarrassed.

"I um, sorry," she stammered looking down at her feet.

"No need for apologies ma'am," Kyle said calmly, regaining his professional indifference.

"Thank you," Selena looked up at him, her breathing finally steadied.

"You're still not safe yet ma'am," he pointed out.

"I'm safer than I was without you...Captain." She turned around again, muttering something under her breath. Kyle didn't pay it much mind as he returned to studying the incubation unit further, but it sounded like she had said: _"A rank still isn't a proper name for you."_

As he considered the statement absent mindedly, he discovered that the one Flood infection form was not the only specimen being kept, and was certainly not the first one to be in stasis in this room. He found two more tubes that had each been hidden from sight individually by a retractable alloy covering that were stationed right next to the one he had first seen. The second had a perfectly identical Flood parasite, while the other was empty. Upon closer examination of the stasis tube, he found that there were no signs of it being forced open.

 _What kind of psychotic bastard would willing open this thing?_ He thought to himself, though he already knew the answer. If someone was willing to keep not one, but three Flood parasites locked up for study in a civilian hospital on a completely populated human world, the person behind the project was either completely ignorant or insane. Maybe both.

Taking one last look at the creatures floating serenely in their stasis inducing liquid, he pulled his Magnum off his right thigh and shot both once each. The sound of the bullets impacting reverberated off the walls and down the halls, followed by the wet sound of the rounds passing through the suspended Flood parasites. Glass shattered noisily and came crashing to the ground, the stasis tube liquid washing the pieces across the floor and around the Spartan's feet.

Casually, Kyle slipped the magazine out from the grip of his weapon and slid in two replacement rounds from one of his belt pouches while he looked back at Selena. She stared at him, then at the dead Flood lying splattered on the floor and across the incubation unit, her mouth slightly open. She didn't know how to react to his nonchalant show of violence, but thought better of questioning it.

"So, Captain, what was it that you got off that console?" she asked, forcing herself not to look at the disgusting mess that now covered the better part of the floor where they stood.

"How do you know I took anything from the incubation console?" he asked back, challenging her observation.

"I might not know everything about what equipment the military uses, but I'm damn sure you wouldn't just stab a computer for fun," Selena shot back aggravatedly. To her surprise, the Spartan chuckled softly.

"Good. You're a smart one ma'am," Kyle praised her. Selena didn't know whether she should be offended by that or not, but it sounded like a genuine enough compliment.

"So what did you find?" she pressed.

"A lot of useless, encrypted garbage that will take some time to sift through, but obviously, it's research data on our enemy." Kyle slapped his Magnum back against the magnetic seal on his thigh and motioned for her to follow him out of the room.

"If it's useless how do you know it's research data?"

"As long as it stays encrypted it's useless, Miss Ackerson," he answered, "and the fact that it was in a room that was equipped for research and possible development infers strongly that any data would pertain to research and observational notes."

"Oh...right..." Selena scolded herself for asking such a stupid question, "So, where are we going now?" she asked quickly to change the subject.

"Secondary objective: city communications array east of this location," the Captain said as if reading off directions on a map.

"But that's miles away and-" she cut herself off, realizing what he was about to do, "Oh no, I am not being carried around like a rag doll again," she stated angrily.

"That was not my immediate plan, regardless of your feelings ma'am," he said objectively.

"Oh, well terrific," Selena said sarcastically as she followed him down the hall, taking a left at the end of the corridor. She carefully picked her way around broken bits of the ceiling that had fallen in their path.

"Priorities have changed given the variables now present in the current situation."

"And may I ask what those variables are?"

"You," he said flatly as he rounded another corner. At the very end of the hall, dim sunlight shined through a set of double doors that had collapsed inward. The Spartan frowned; he knew that he shouldn't go back and use the entrance he had used when coming into the hospital in case of an ambush waiting, but he still did not like not knowing what was beyond this new set of doors.

"So I'm a variable, huh?" she asked, offended.

"You and the condition you were in, yes," Kyle said, stopping to face her.

"I'm a person, not a _variable_ ," Selena spat. The Spartan tilted his head to the right as if he were puzzled.

"No offense was intended ma'am. It's merely a fact."

"Yeah well, most people don't like being referred to as variables. That's about the same thing as being called an object, or a bur-"

"You are a burden," he cut her off. He said it in such an emotionless tone, she didn't know whether it was an insult or not. Instinctively, her anger answered for her.

"I'm a goddamned burden? Then why are you bringing me along, huh? Why even bother saving my ass in the first place?" Kyle just stared at her, his body language as neutral as his tone had been.

"Well? Go on, answer," she snapped impatiently. The Captain just turned away and walked the last few paces towards the exit.

"Goddammit don't walk away from me! Answer!" Selena couldn't keep herself from screaming any longer.

"I already told you," he said back slightly louder than he normally spoke, a minute agitation present in his voice.

"I'm tired of your bullshit 'duty' and your fucking-"

"I told you not to speak to me like that, civilian." His fists were clenched at his sides as he came towards her, his voice barely masking his growing anger.

"I didn't, I-" Selena stared wide eyed and choked back a scream as the Spartan closed the distance between them in seconds. She closed her eyes and ducked down, putting her hands over her head and bracing for the worst. What happened next however, surprised her as much as the Spartan's sudden outburst.

"You deserved to be saved," Kyle said in low voice. When Selena looked up, she saw him looking down at her. His hands were no longer fists and he was holding his right hand out for her to take.

"I- I what?" she asked, confused.

"You deserved it," he replied patiently, still holding out his hand. Selena looked at it, then looked up at his visor. It shimmered dimly from the light behind him, catching her reflection.

"But, but...You were just angry, and now you're suddenly okay? What the-?" Before she could say anymore he took her left hand in his right gently and lifted her up from her crouched position, being slightly forceful as he did so.

"There's no time for arguments." Kyle led her outside, her hand still in his. Selena felt like her hand was being held by an oversized iron clamp. It certainly looked like that, seeing as his hand was easily twice the size of her own.

"I wasn't arguing, I-"

"You were questioning my motives for saving your life. Again." He let go of her hand once they were outside, turning to look at her again.

"I deserved it?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Selena stared up into his visor, her eyes running over it's surface searching for the slightest hint of the pair of eyes underneath.

"You have a lot to live for," Ninety-six said sympathetically enough, but somehow it still sounded half-hearted and indifferent.

"And what would 'a lot' be?" she pressed, hoping to get more emotion out of him.

"Family, friends, a career." Ninety-six still sounded half-hearted, but now his voice contained a small hint of sadness.

"So do you then, in that case." She put her hand on his left shoulder plate, using the most comforting voice she could and giving him an equally comforting smile. He shook his head, taking her arm in his right hand and bringing it off his shoulder.

"Oh come on, you have to have someone out there that cares about you, right?" Kyle stared at her, unresponsive.

"Well, don't you?" After a long moment of silence, he bowed his head and slowly shook it. Then he turned away and began to walk down the street. Selena stared at him, deeply troubled. _As strange as he is, he's still human_ , she thought.

Ninety-six was very strange alright; no real name, super strength, being able to tower over her at over eight feet tall, and most of all, his uncanningly emotionless way of talking. Only now did she actually glimpse part of what was underneath that cold indifference.

As she went to follow him, she thought of ways to get him to talk and perhaps make him open up a bit about his past at the very least. She had never been very good at that when her friends had come to her for advice, but this was different. He'd saved her life after all, and despite her agitating him, he had promised (in a way) that he would see to her safe departure.

Selena quickly caught up to the Spartan who had kept a slow leisurely pace. He turned his head every now and then, studying the surroundings and paying little attention to her. After half an hour of silent walking, she decided to attempt to learn more about him.

"So..." she began, somewhat nervous, "Ninety-six, huh? What's that for?" When he didn't answer immediately, she added "You know, what does it mean?"

"It's the number I was given," he said plainly.

"I got that, but why were you given it?"

"It's my recruitment number." Kyle slid his Magnum off his thigh and rubbed it's dull chrome casing with the palm of his left hand in an attempt to polish off the dirt.

"Recruitment number?" Selena asked, trying to gain his full attention.

"Yes." Kyle held up his Magnum to eye level and studied it in the dim sunlight. The scrapes and scratches that riddled the sidearm caught the pale light, making it look like the sidearm was riddled with black scars while the rest of the casing gleamed with a silvery glow. A single yellow stripe near the exit to the firing chamber ran down vertically. The paint was faded and entire sections had been scraped off, leaving silvery patches that interrupted the simple design.

"Were there others?" Selena continued to inquire, watching him put the oversized pistol back onto his thigh.

"Yes."

"How many more were there?" The Spartan didn't answer for several seconds as if his mind were somewhere else, which was highly possible considering she had no idea what went on inside that helmet he wore.

"One-hundred and fifty," he finally said, "including me, in the beginning."

"Are they still around?" Again, he took several moments to answer.

"Yes."

"Well, that's good," she said as cheerfully as she could.

"How many are there now? I mean, I know some of them might have, you know, passed on, but-"

"One," he cut her off.

"Oh...I'm...I'm sorry," Selena said quietly, bowing her head low.

"Soldiers die. They served their purpose," Kyle stopped at the edge of a crosswalk and knelt down to examine a charred body. From the uniform that still clung to it in tatters, he knew it had been a Marine. He felt around the neck of the body for its dogtags, but found none. Disappointed, he sighed and went to examine the equipment that was still intact on the soldier's body.

"But some of them had to have been your friends though," she said, ignoring his cold statement as best as she could.

Kyle placed a frag grenade he had retrieved on the back of his armor's magnetic belt, next to a large mesh bag that rested below the small of his back. Rummaging through what remained of the Marine's armor, he found two full magazines of standardized Magnum rounds. They weren't as powerful as the rounds issued for Spartan usage but they would fit perfectly into the sidearm regardless. Finally he gingerly scooped up an MA5 customised assault rifle, complete with a holographic targeting sight, heavy barrel, and four clips of forty-five shredder rounds that could reduce an unarmored man to a fleshy pulp. He examined it carefully, squeezing the trigger a few times to make sure the weapon clicked.

Grateful for the second weapon, he pushed one of the magazines into the butt of the rifle and slid it over the top of his shoulder and onto his back. The rifle clicked loudly as the magnetic seal on his back held it firmly in place immediately.

"Captain?"

"Ma'am?" he got up to turn toward her as he stored away the rifle magazines in his right chest pouch.

"You don't expect me to believe that none of the other Spartans were your friends?" Selena crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly.

"They weren't my friends," Kyle said.

"Well that's-"

"They were my family," he interjected, looking back down the street away from her and turning away. Selena fell silent, looking at the Spartan as he stood solemnly against the dust filled horizon, his back to her but his head turned to look at her over his left shoulder.

"I've...never heard someone say something like that before."

Kyle maintained a somber silence and turned his head away again, looking towards the skyline. Then Selena felt her stomach churn and growl.

"Ugh, that's embarrassing," she muttered. Kyle on the other hand seemed to think the exact opposite.

"How long was it since you last ate ma'am?" he asked with a doctor-like sense of concern.

"Um...well I remembered eating breakfast just before going to work, and that was before-"

"Come on, we're wasting time," he grabbed her arm suddenly and pulled her along the blacktop, taking long, swift strides as he spoke.

"Hey! Slow down! Where are we even going?" Selena yelled.

"Somewhere with supplies," Kyle responded. As he said this he looked back at the motion sensor in his HUD. The edges of his radar seemed to bleed all around its circumference, creeping slowly onto their position.

 _And somewhere where you won't die,_ he thought to himself as he pulled her urgently along.

Kyle led her to an apartment complex situated next to a large store outlet about seven miles away from the hospital. They had been forced to deviate somewhat from his desired course to get to the city's communications array, but with the overwhelming Flood presence that had seemingly materialized out of thin air he had compromised willingly for the moment. A hungry survivor wasn't going to help any either.

The pair climbed the stairs of the apartment complex's exterior rapidly until they were about five floors up from the ground. Kyle then led her down the brick walkway that overhung above several other identical walkways until he came to an open door. It's dark green paint had been chipped away by years of abuse and was long overdue for a new coating. The Spartan practically threw Selena inside then quickly shut the door as silently as its creaking hinges would allow, then locked the knob, deadbolt, and extra chain lock that had been added by a previous occupant. He knew fully well that it would do little to stop a Flood infected human from getting in, but it was better than doing nothing.

"Nice place you found here," Selena huffed indignantly, sitting on top of the room's single bed.

"You could have at least found us a place that wasn't twenty years out of date. This apartment doesn't even have electronic locks."

Ignoring her, Kyle walked into the kitchen and raided the refrigerator. All the power had been cut but the refrigerator had trapped in most of the cold and the food inside had been well preserved.

"Come here," he ordered, crouching down with his right arm hanging on top of the fridge door as he peered inside.

"What is it now?" she asked perturbed, walking over.

"Get something to eat while you can," Kyle said, standing up and walking away from the open refrigeration unit, "You may not get another meal as fresh as this again."

Selena stood gawking at the refrigerator then rushed toward it, yanking out a bag full of green grapes, two plastic packages of cheddar cheese and sliced turkey, and a large liter bottle of water. And finally as if it weren't enough, an oversized piece of what was left of a chocolate cake on a porcelain plate covered in thin plastic wrap. She laid out all of her findings neatly on the barren wooden table situated right next to the kitchen and walked over to the sink to wash her hands.

Kyle stood in the corner of the dining room with his arms crossed and watched, amused. _A Marine wouldn't take the time to clean their hands just to eat in a situation like this._ He shook his head and leaned up against the wall, staring at the floor and thinking. After several minutes he closed his eyes and drank in the silence that was occasionally interrupted by the sound of Selena unwrapping a piece of cheese or turkey. When he looked up again he saw that she had found a whole loaf of bread and had made herself three sandwiches.

Selena ate the first hurriedly, barely pausing to drink down some of the water from the liter bottle. She ate the second a bit slower, looking around the room and studying everything. When she got to the last sandwich she lifted it up halfway to her mouth, then stopped. She looked at Kyle who was still leaning against the corner and was half concealed in the shadows that stretched across the room.

"Hey..." Selena said quietly to get his attention. Kyle tilted his head up slightly to look at her.

"You can have this one. There's plenty of stuff here and I've got no right to be greedy about it." Selena held out the sandwich for him to walk over and take it, but Kyle shook his head.

"Oh come on, even you have to eat too," she said coaxingly.

"That's generous of you ma'am, but no. I have my own food." Kyle pulled out a small vial of translucent blue liquid from a pouch on his belt and held it out for her to see.

"What's that?"

"Liquid supplement for all nutritional requirements. It's everything a human needs, and only that; it creates no waste material and doesn't require me to remove my helmet to consume." As Kyle said that he opened the plastic vial, revealing a small needle. He opened a small circular port in his right forearm's armor plating and inserted the needle inside it. The liquid drained within a second then he pulled it out just as quickly, recapping the needle tipped vial and hiding it away once again in his belt.

"That can't be as good as real food," Selena said.

"It's better in all nutritional aspects than any-"

"That's not what I meant at all," Selena interjected. Kyle tilted his head to the left slightly, staring.

"Don't look at me like that, you know very well what I meant," she said accusingly.

"No, I don't."

"What?" she stared at him incredulously. His only response was to return her stare with his own blank visage.

"Well...real food is just...better," Selena told him hesitantly as she searched for the best way to explain her reasoning.

"Go on." Kyle pulled up a chair and sat across from her at the table, resting his elbows on the top of it and clasping his hands in front of his faceplate.

"It's, it's um...well all food has a taste and it well...it's fulfilling. Satisfying."

"I see." Kyle still looked at her with his hands clasped in front of him, listening intently.

"Haven't you ever eaten something before?"

Kyle thought back to his years on Reach and all the assignments he had been given. He had never thought much of it, but his last real meal had been just before his permanent stationing aboard Admiral Wolfe's ship; the ship he was still technically stationed on.

"I have, yes. It's been a long time, however," Kyle finally answered her. Selena furrowed her brow at his answer.

"How long?"

"Approximately five years ma'am," he replied as if giving a situational report to a commanding officer. The polite answer seemed to not matter to his inquirer as she only stared at him with wide eyes.

"Five years living off that, that, whatever it is?! That can't be healthy or safe."

"It is, I assure you," Kyle laid his arms down on the tabletop and continued, "eating is not a necessity for me."

Selena shook her head and put down her last sandwich. Pushing her chair away from the table she rose up and walked back into the kitchen and stopping midway, one of her hands rubbing her forehead and the other resting on her hip.

"Look, I...I'm gonna get myself cleaned up. Maybe see if there's any new clothes here first before I do. While I do that, why don't you just try some actual food? Okay?" Selena asked him innocently with a tinge of motherlike concern.

"Ma'am I said it wasn't-"

"Oh please just stop calling me ma'am for once, alright?" she snapped at him, spinning on her heel to face him.

"It's just a show of respect ma'am," he explained calmly.

"Respect? You barely know me, why would you respect me?" Selena asked impatiently, her hands on her hips. Before he could answer, she continued:

"Look, just cut it out, alright? I'm not old enough to be called _ma'am_. And ma'am was what I used to call my old friend's mom." The Spartan just looked at her, then nodded.

"Good. I'll be in the bedroom if you need to find me. Not that you really need me to tell you I suppose," she commented.

Kyle watched her walk away, then looked back down at the sandwich Selena had left. He considered eating it for a moment, but decided against it. Taking off his helmet for any reason at all made him feel uncomfortable. Instead he closed his eyes and waited in silence, hunching over slightly in his chair.

Forty minutes passed before Selena's voice abruptly woke him from his short rest.

"Um, Spartan?" she called out from inside the master bedroom. Instinctively Kyle rose up and hurriedly walked into the room, standing at attention. The bathroom door was halfway open and Selena stood about three feet from it in front of a wall mirror set above the room's sink. She was wrapped snuggly in a towel that just barely covered her abdomen and chest, her hair sticking to her bare back, darkened by water. When she saw the Captain standing right behind her in the mirror, she spun around so quickly the towel almost fell off of her.

"Don't do that!" Selena shrieked, grabbing at the top of the saturated cloth firmly and pressing it against her slender frame. Kyle tilted his head to the side, confused.

"I don't follow ma'am."

"You don't just... _barge_ into a room when someone's not dressed," she said. She could feel her cheeks turning scarlet as she tried her best to cover as much of herself as possible.

"You called, I came. I don't see the problem," he responded, completely lost as to what she was going on about.

"You could have just said; 'Yeah, right here. What do ya need?' You know? Not just waltz in here and almost see my wet, naked ass trying to dry off."

"I've already seen you naked, ma'am."

"WHAT!?" Selena's face was flushed full sanguine now, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

"When, how, the- do you realize what-!"

"How else would I have operated on you?" Kyle crossed his arms and waited for her to calm down. She did, but only faintly.

"I'm a professional ma'am, so you need not worry. Besides, the formalities you're accustomed to don't exist in times of war, or in the UNSC Naval Armada as a whole. I've seen more than my fair share of-" he paused, cutting himself off to think of the right word. He couldn't though, so he decided to be as plain as he could.

"- _nude_ female soldiers. There's not much difference between them and you." The Spartan hoped that would ease some of the embarrassment, or whatever it was plastered across her face.

"Oh gee, thanks. Because every woman just loves being told they look the same as every other girl." Kyle tilted his head to the side again, giving her a blank stare that was made even blanker by the expressionless face of his helmet.

Selena sighed and rolled her eyes:

"Yeah, of course you don't get it..."

"What is it you need ma'am?" he ignored her.

"A lot- for my home not to be blown to Hell, for my friends to be alive again, but you can't do anything about that could you?" she asked indignantly. Her attitude didn't phase Kyle in the slightest however.

"If I had been here your home would still be gone. There's no changing that Miss. But I would have gotten as many of you off-world as I could."

"Yeah well, it's...forget it. Right now I just need something small; this place doesn't have any clothes in my size so I wanted to see if you could do something about that."

Ninety-six nodded dutifully and walked around the room's king sized bed and towards the closet. He was still admittedly surprised that the whole place was in near perfect shape as he rummaged through the coat hangers and drawers within. Seconds later he came back with a dark leathery trench coat and white T-shirt, a faded pair of jeans and a pair of old work boots which presumably belonged to the now deceased owner of the apartment. When Kyle held them out for her to take, Selena just stared with a look of distaste.

"Um, well, not that I don't appreciate the thought but...this isn't exactly _women's_ clothes. And it's definitely too big for me; I'm a size two. Not to mention that you're lacking...underclothes."

"There's no time to go searching for petty wants. Put them on. Now."

"So now you're going to order me like I'm one of your soldiers?" she retorted. Kyle turned around and put all that he had gathered on top of the bed, then turned back to face her. Without thinking he took the his sidearm from his thigh and absently flipped the safety off and on loudly.

"If you want to live you'll do as I say," he answered quietly. Then he noticed that she was staring down at the Magnum held by his side fearfully and put it back on its customary place.

"It's an impatient habit. I'm not going to harm you." Still the same, unbelieving stare. He sighed loudly, his helmet's filters making the exhalation sound even louder and more raspy than it really was. _I guess I'll just wait outside then._

Closing the door behind himself, he walked back down the narrow hall of the apartment and back onto the balcony overlooking the street. His HUD's clock told him it was 1200 hours now, but he could still barely make out the rays of this system's star through the debris clouds hanging over the cityscape. _We're wasting time here_ he thought to himself bitterly. _The longer we stay sitting in one spot the easier it'll be for the Flood to track us._ Kyle reached his right arm over his head and slipped his thumb and index finger into the snug trigger guard of his salvaged rifle, slinging it off from its seal on his back and dropping it down into his arms. The safety made a small, comforting click as he thumbed it down into its fully automatic firing mode.

The door opened behind him and he turned his head to the left instinctively to see the source of the noise. It was Selena, dressed in the ill fitting men's clothes that her Spartan protector had found for her.

"So um...I swallowed my pride and um...sorry. I know it's a bit unrealistic to expect you to go out and find me something as small as gender specific clothes."

Ninety-six nodded silently and started walking down the length of the balcony, putting the butt of his rifle firmly into the bend of his shoulder. She followed him, frowning.

"Spartan, where are we going?" Selena tried to change the subject.

"City communications antennae."

"How far is that?"

"Approximation: 65-60 miles," he answered her flatly.

"Does that mean you're going to throw me over your shoulder again?" When he didn't answer right away, she added, "look, I get it. It's faster that way, I know." Kyle continued to walk in silence, looking at either side of the street and studying each building and pile of rubble thoughtfully.

"You don't like talking, do you?" The Spartan stiffened suddenly after Selena said this.

"What's wrong?"

Without warning Kyle grabbed her right arm firmly and pulled her close to his chest, scooping her off the ground and rushing towards a collapsed building, rifle swinging in his right hand as he ran with her.

"The Hell are you!?-"

"SHUT UP!" he yelled at her.

Kyle halted abruptly next to the pile of rubble that had once been a shopping district and dropped her next to it. He thrust his fist down into it and cleared a large hole in it with two long, sweeping horizontal motions. When he pulled it back out his left forearm was covered in chips of concrete dusting and a disgusting black liquid.

"Get in there. Now."

"Spartan what the Hell is going o- oh my god!" she shrieked as he wrapped his free arm around her waist and stuck her in the hole he had made.

"Shut up!" he hissed at her. Forcibly he pushed her head down and hurriedly covered her in more rubble, hiding her completely.

"Don't move. Don't even speak," Kyle ordered coldly.

"Just stop! Let me out of-" A far off shriek cut her protests off. It was something she had never heard before. Cold. Wet. Inhuman. Selena's eyes grew wide with fear.

A loud metallic sliding noise followed it, coming from right next to her. Selena had enough leverage to make a small hole in the mound she was buried in to see the Spartan pull back the charging handle on his MA5 rifle, light blue dots of light flaring to life along its exterior. His thumb flicked the safety off, followed by a low hum from his suit. Bright gold sparks spread across his armor, spreading to form a floating shield that enveloped his whole body as it quickly vanished from sight. Fourteen years of firearm's training took over, making the Captain sprint for the nearest cover provided by a fallen concrete pillar.

He slid into it, slamming his back against it and angling his upper body over it in an instinctive defensive position as all the HUD readouts flashed in front of his eyes in translucent blue. The rifle's barrel raised in front of his visor, training its sights on the completely deserted war torn streets before them. Several more low, ominous shrieks answered the first, making Kyle tighten his grip on the rifle. He grit his teeth and used his helmet's zoom optics to focus in on the terrain down range, scanning slowing from left to right with the MA5. The weapon's targeting reticle materialized in the center of his visor as he manually established the neural link to the standardized electronic suite.

Selena watched Kyle as he barely moved his arms from side to side. When he stopped, she let her eyes wander out towards the bleak cityscape. Her blood ran cold as she saw a dark form leap across the rooftops. The Captain followed it with his aim, waiting for it to get in range. It leapt again from the darkness, twenty meters closer now. It was fast, too fast. As it sailed through the air a bright flash erupted from the barrel of the Spartan's rifle, followed by the loud report of three rounds flying through the air. Carbon filled Selena's nostrils.

The creature fell ungracefully to the pavement with a hard thud. Smoke wisped out from the MA5's barrel as Kyle patiently watched the Flood's body. A low moan filled the air. It rose steadily from the ground, preparing to charge straight forward with outstretched tentacles. Another loud blast filled the city air. The Flood fell backwards again, violently. Pus and blood spilled out from the gaping holes that the shredder rounds punched into its mass. Ninety-six slid over the pillar top, leg's moving smoothly over it as he rushed forward.

Three more Flood forms leapt down from the structures lining the streets, arms outstretched in a primitive blood lust. Kyle squeezed the trigger again, the ammo counter in his helmet rapidly going down with each blast he put into the airborne monsters. They careened through the air and plopped down to the surface the same as the first. One rose up again, blood oozing out of it in snot-like strings. It moaned in its raspy, unintelligent voice angrily as it continued to try and land a blow. Kyle kept his pace, strafing in a clockwise circle around it as he laid a steady stream of fire into its chest. It fell in a heap, corpse falling to gorey pieces.

Spine chilling screams filled the atmosphere of the dead planet. The Spartan thumbed the release to his rifle's magazine, letting the empty alloy fall with a clatter. Shoving a new magazine in place, his HUD changed from 0/135 to 45/90. _Not enough lead,_ he scowled, pulling back the charging handle again hastily. Glancing at his radar, it looked like blood was seeping into the circumference of the readout..

"Dammit," he muttered to himself. He spun on his heels, redirecting his aim at every degree. Flood combat forms waddled towards him from the darkness of the city alleys and leapt down from above like leopards hungry for a fresh kill.

Rotating in place he put three to four rounds in as many Flood as he could, the loud bursts of fire giving life to the enormous man made grave. One combat form closed the distance quickly, slashing wildly at Kyle. Raising his rifle up over his head, he caught the blow with the underside of the barrel housing, shoving it back and ramming his right elbow hard into the Flood parasite imbedded in the reanimated body's chest. It splattered across the Spartan's torso as it went reeling from the hit.

Quickly he loaded another new magazine- _45/45_ the top right of his visor read. Swapping his rifle to his left hand, he drew his M6 and clicked the safety. He loosed a volley off to his left with the outstretched rifle and hammered the Magnum's trigger relentlessly to his right, charging down the street towards dozens more Flood. The space was filled with nearly five dozen moans and blood curdling screams as each one struck fell from the barrage.

With both weapon's empty Kyle drove his left shoulder into a mutilated human in front of him in a swift, ruthless bull charge. It sailed backward, hitting three more Flood soldiers behind it and knocking them against a ruined wall. Pale green stains covered it in a sickly fresh paint. Slapping his sidearm to his thigh Ninety-six jammed the last magazine into his rifle just before an assailant from behind hit him viciously with a mangled arm of tentacles. Kyle spun and let the blow slide past his right shoulder, letting the foe's momentum drive him too far forward.

As it flew forward, helpless to stop its own course, Kyle drove his right fist through the creature's stomach, the armored hand bursting out through the spin and out the other side. The monster shrieked in his visor as it tried to impale him with a blood spattered blade of bone. The Captain gritted his teeth and headbutted it, making it reel from the force while he wrenched his arm out from the beast's innards, ripping a sickening swathe up diagonally through its upper body as he did. More blood and pus scattered across the ground and the Spartan's navy blue armor.

As it fell in two newly formed pieces Kyle unloaded what remained of his shredder rounds into the two dozen Flood still advancing. _Weapon empty. Switch to secondary firearm,_ his HUD flashed in tiny blue letters.

"Really fucking helpful," he muttered sarcastically as he slammed the rifle against his back.

As it clanged and sealed magnetically he was already swapping the empty mag of his M6 for a new eight rounds. _8/24_ the top right corner read as the rifle weapon icon minimized and slid underneath the Magnum. Firing all eight off in quick succession, he grabbed the handle of his shoulder knife with his left hand and ripped it out, using the momentum to slash across a combat form's face that had gotten too close. It kept the offensive, undeterred. A chrome pistol grip was there to follow up the greeting, smashing it down and crunching it's collarbone beneath it.

Kyle stabbed his knife to the right as it fell, running through another infection form and making the body shiver and fall limp. As quickly as he moved though, the Spartan couldn't stop the third attacker from landing a savage blow against his left shoulder. The power of it sent Kyle sliding back several feet, his shields humming agitatedly while the field around his armor lit up with a sparkling gold. He grunted and pulled the knife strapped to his collarbone with his empty left hand. Smacking his sidearm back to his side he leapt at the monster, fingers curling tightly around the Flood's upper arm as he jabbed it repeatedly in the chest with the combat knife. It lurched about each time he drove it into it, trying to break free as the life drained from it in streams of green and crimson. The beast fell at his feet, lifeless. Knife still in hand, he grabbed another mag from his belt and let the empty one fall to the weathered asphalt, the slide clicking back into place with a satisfying sound. He raised the pistol up and fired twice into another Flood, eager to take the place of its fallen comrade. It fell as well, sliding back several meters across the ground, leaving a messy trail behind it. Just as Kyle was about to fire again, the Flood began to turn tail.

"Come on!" he yelled at them, firing at the back of one of the retreating combat forms.

"Is that all you've got for me!?" he screamed angrily, still firing. The Flood fell forward and lurched once, life leaving it completely. Kyle scowled.

"There'll be more," he said bitterly to himself. "There's always more..."

Kyle looked down at his left hand, watching the steady drips of blood and vile green drop from the stained blade rhythmically. Absently he wiped the blade off on his thigh plate, turning it over on its other side to scrape off the rest of the gore. Lifting it back to his collarbone, he returned it back to its matte-black housing and walked over to one of the dead Flood forms. Slowly he bent over it with outstretched fingers and pulled his shoulder knife from its chest, wiping it off as well on the plating of his left forearm. With the less than perfect cleaning done, Ninety-six placed his emptied Magnum on his thigh, bending back down to pick up the empty mags that he had littered across the ground.

After he had stowed them all away, he looked around at the corpses that laid all around him. Once he had cared about the lives of the people that had been converted. Now all he felt when he looked at them was a hollowness that replaced all other thoughts. _Nothing can be done but to put them down again._ With that he solemnly turned to walk back down the street and uncover the precious cargo he had buried beneath the rubble.

Selena had watched the whole engagement, horrified beyond belief. It was one thing for the Spartan to tell her about the creatures that had taken over her home, but to see them alive, moving... _real._ It was a nightmare come to life. She didn't know how long the fighting had lasted, but it felt like an eternity to her. Waiting, hiding, watching helplessly. Hoping to god that the Spartan wasn't killed and that the monsters just down the road didn't find her and take her too.

Now the Spartan himself scared the living hell out of her as well. Seeing him fight first hand, how ferocious he was pitted against the Flood, he almost seemed just as monstrous. He ripped them apart, gunned down dozens of them without pause. They were people once, did he not feel any sympathy for them? Was he even human himself? Questions ran through her mind as Selena watched the Spartan slowly walk back to her, covered in more gore than when she had first met him. She closed her eyes and waited. Concrete and steel gently lifted itself away and was brushed aside, while she stayed in the safety of the darkness she had made by closing her eyes. Once everything had been cleared from her, there were several moments of silence.

"Ma'am, you can get up now," the Spartan's voice told her calmly. Selena's eyes snapped open, a fiery temper gripping her.

"Oh, can I?" she spat at him, standing up quickly to stare him in the visor.

"How gracious of you!" she yelled sarcastically.

"After all, it's not like I had a choice of being shoved into a pile of rubble, not being told what was going on and being completely covered in the shit!"

"Ma'am, I-"

"Then I watch helplessly, fearing my fucking life the entire time, completely defenseless as you tear apart goddamn monsters like an animal!"

"Miss I did that to protect you," he responded just as calmly as before.

"Protect me? _Protect me!?_ " she cried, hysterical rage unhinging her.

"You're practically just like them, yet you claim to be on my side! You won't tell me your name, you barely act like a human being, act like a psychopath; are you a person, or are you just an empty suit!?"

The Spartan stared at her, watching her breathe heavily as she paused to wait for him to answer.

"What are you!?" she yelled again, fists clenched at her sides. Several long moments of silence passed as the Spartan stood staring at her blankly. Selena looked at his sides; his massive fists were clenched as well. She could hear him breathing through his helmet; it sounded completely enraged. Any moment he was going to hit her, she just knew it. She didn't care anymore though, she had nothing. Her friends and family were dead or lightyears away, her home was gone, her life gone. There was nothing left. Yet here this person was, dragging her along like a ragdoll, prolonging the inevitable.

To her surprise, his fists slowly unfurled at his sides. His breaths became raspy and haggard, then he fell completely silent.

"We can't waste anymore time," he said in an emotionless voice.

"I'm not going anywhere with you until- HEY!" The Spartan grabbed her arm firmly and pulled her to his side, making her walk alongside him, down the opposite direction of the road.

"It doesn't matter what I am anymore Miss Ackerson," he answered her.

The faintest hint of sadness found its way out of his words. It was the truth though; he felt nothing anymore. Not for his long dead friends, not for the soldiers that died alongside him, the enemies he'd killed. And most of all, he felt nothing for himself anymore.

 _You have no idea how right you are._


	3. Chapter 3- A Past Forgotten

_**A Past Forgotten**_

Kyle continued to bring Selena along with him in silence, hefting her back over his left shoulder again and running at a steady pace of twenty-five miles an hour, letting the quiet fill him with its peace. Selena had voiced all of the thoughts that he had felt for nearly four years ever since the death of his first friend. It reminded him of just how much he had lost gaining the status that he now had among the UNSC's finest. Something he tried not to think about. It was easier to let himself become a machine and nothing else.

Down desolate, empty city streets he ran, letting his relentless footfalls fill the silence he had forced into his mind. He never paused to look where he was, staring at the waypoint in his visor that led him to the comm antenna he needed to call for evac. All that existed was that objective, that goal. Nothing else. The woman he carried was nothing but an objective as well. She meant nothing, was nothing, and would never be anything to him.

Deep within himself, he felt a growing hollowness that never felt as painful as it did now. Kyle closed his eyes, focusing on drawing steady breathes as he continued down a winding back road through a residential area. Trees began to line the way, breaking the bleak fog that clung to everything around them. The houses were in various states of disrepair, gaping holes in their faces with trees that caved in their rooves. Craters dotted each and every yard.

Something tapped on the Spartan's back, breaking him away from his self induced trance. Dismissing it as nothing, he continued to sprint over the scorched pavement, eyes wide open once more. He felt a tap on his armor again, firmer this time.

"Hey!" a woman's voice called from behind his head "Stop for a minute, would you!"

Kyle steadily stopped himself, coming to a rest in front of one of the empty homes. Without thinking, the Spartan put Selena down, letting her stare at the house they had stopped in front of.

"I knew this place looked familiar..." Selena trailed off, taking a tentative step towards it. Kyle looked around impatiently.

"I put you down as a kindness ma'am," he told her, "we don't have time to sightsee with the Flood on our heels."

"This was my friend's house. My best friend's house," she continued, lost in her own world.

"I understand that Miss but, we-"

When Kyle turned his head to look back at Selena she had already crossed the small stone path that led to the front door of the cozy, single story brick house. She pressed an open palm against a weathered wooden door, revealing a dark interior of a living room. Quickly, Kyle followed her inside, ready to pick her up again.

"I said we don't have time for this," he said angrily.

The woman however didn't hear him, her mind drawn back to a time long before. Inside the darkened house, Kyle slowly scanned the interior. It was eerily intact, unlike the rest of the neighborhood. A large tan leather couch stood next to the front, double wide window. Two reclining armchairs sat straight across from the front door so that anyone sitting in them could just turn their head to the left and greet a visitor. A ceiling mounted projector pointed at the far wall, left completely blank for the projector's use. Home theater equipment, most likely from the Spartan's limited knowledge of civilian life. In the center a dark green, marble topped coffee table filled the remaining space within the room, holding up several picture frames. Dust covered everything in the room with a thick coat of grey.

Selena gently took a picture frame in her small, outstretched fingers. She blew the dust from the glass covering, and looked at it sadly. Kyle felt the need at that moment to attempt to keep her spirits up.

"You'll see your friend again, I promise ma'am," he said softly, stepping to stand behind her.

"No, I won't," she answered, closing her eyes.

"You're going to make it off world ma'am, I've promised you already," Kyle continued, stepping back with one foot and putting a hand on her shoulder. He turned her around steadily.

"It's not that Captain," she replied, bowing her head slightly and hugging the frame to her chest.

"He died when he was six years old." Ninety-six stood silent.

"I'm sorry...I didn't realize-"

"That he was a childhood friend?" Selena asked, half laughing and crying.

"It's fine. It's just stupid; I haven't been here for years," she turned away, misty eyed.

"I talked to his parents for years after he died. They've long since moved away; I doubt they know what's going on in their old home," she laughed bitterly, trying to choke back tears.

"He must have been very important to you if you still remember him that fondly," Kyle said in a hushed tone. He was jaded to death now, but he would at least try to show some sympathy.

"He saved my life..." Selena took the frame from her chest and looked back down at it, a tear falling freely onto the glass. Blonde locks obscured her downturned face.

"How?" the Spartan asked.

"One day, we were walking home from school," she sniffled, "and I decided to race him home. It was so stupid, but I was just a kid..." she laughed again, her body trembling.

"We ran until we came across a gap that led down to a river. A steep fall that could kill a little kid...like me," absently she wiped the tear off the picture she held, sniffling again.

"He made the jump... but I didn't. I clung to the rocks for my life- I didn't know how to swim."

As she spoke, Kyle found himself remembering flashes of things he hadn't seen in fourteen years. Everything she said sounded impossibly familiar. He blinked several times, looking at her, eagerly waiting for her to go on.

"He climbed down, tied a loose vine around himself," tears flowed freely down her cheeks, washing away the dirt that covered her skin.

"That day I almost lost everything because of some stupid game. But he brought me back, took me home. And the very next day, he was gone..." Selena walked away from him, weeping.

"Dead from heart failure," she dropped the picture down on the table again and fell to her knees beside it, covering her face in her hands.

"For years I thought about that day, wondering what it would have been like if he had been alive. He was such a sweet boy Spartan, he didn't deserve to die so young!" Selena's body trembled as she sobbed uncontrollably, the stress of the present situation and grief of the memories she had breaking her resolve.

Kyle knelt down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders, silent. With his other arm he reached around her and took the picture frame in his hands.

His blood ran cold.

A mother, long red hair, hazel eyes, and fair skin stood on the left, a father with pale blue eyes, lanky, dark brown hair, and darkly tanned skin on the right. Both wore the happiest smiles Kyle had ever seen. Between them stood a little girl with blonde hair and bright green eyes and a boy with short, dirty-blonde hair, with eyes just like his mother's and a face that resembled his father. He had seen these people before. There was no doubt in his mind. And the girl... she had been in his dreams. Many, many times during his first years on Reach he had seen her. Last of all, the boy. Vaguely he remembered that boy...

"Ma'am..." he said, trying to steady his own breathing, "who are the two children in this photo?"

"That's me," she said, calming herself down and shakily pointing to the girl "and my best friend."

"Who?" he asked, hiding the urgency in his voice as best he could.

"Kyle."

Kyle froze. He didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. It was just coincidence. It had to be. It _had_ to be.

"...When was he born?"

"February 12, 2596," she answered steadily.

 _No...that can't be right...it can't be..._

"Was he buried here ma'am?"

"Yes, but-"

"Where."

"Spartan, what's going-?"

" _ **Where!?"**_ Swiftly he stood up, bringing Selena up with him, still clutching the photo firmly in his gauntleted hand. His visor was inches from her face.

"A few days after he died, they held a service at the church at the very end of the street, but I don't see why it's so important all of a- SUDDEN!?" she shrieked as Kyle hefted her back over his shoulder and bolted out the door, running faster than he had ever ran before, an iron grip still on the photo.

 _I must know. I have to know. I_ _ **need**_ _to know._

 _24 June, 2616_

 _1550 hours_

The Spartan ran down the street with Selena in tow, skidding to a halt in front of the church yard. Once a pristine white, wooden building, the place of worship was almost completely destroyed. The white paint was chipped away and ruined by the hellfire that had rained down from orbit on this city. Entire sections were reduced to ash, cold embers strewn all about. On top of the caved in roof, the cross that had stood on top lie splintered and soot covered, decayed and no longer fit to represent the religion it had symbolized. A stone path that had led to the church's front steps was battered and cracked. Charred tree limbs obstructed the way, the trunks that they had belonged to fractured and broken at the base, lying about haphazardly. The whole scene fit in very well with the rest of the desolate, dead surroundings.

Kyle set Selena down in front of the building, still clutching the picture frame she had found at her long deceased friend's home. He looked dead at her, silent for a moment, then spoke:

"Show me where his grave is."

"I still don't understand- why do you want to see it at all?" Selena asked.

"It's vital to us getting off-world," he said solemnly. Another half truth, but still not a total lie. The Spartan would tell her what his interest was in this boy one day. Maybe. But definitely not today.

"Really?" she continued, curious. Kyle didn't respond, instead choosing to answer her with solemn silence. He waited for her to lead him through the graveyard, expectantly. The wearied young woman finally sighed in defeat.

"Alright," she breathed, "come on."

Selena led the blue Spartan soldier steadily across the disheveled church grounds, picking her way through the twisted, knotted Earth in the her ill fitting boots. They passed several lines of tombstones, blackened with more soot and ash and damaged from the bombardment.

"His tombstone might be too damaged to read," Selena said, looking at some of the graves they walked over. She paused to stare at them, a little worried. Kyle nodded at her in understanding and encouraged her to keep going, anxious to find it. After a few more minutes, she came to a sudden halt in front of him, staring down at one stone, isolated from all the others.

"T-that's...that's him," she breathed deeply, looking down at it with sad eyes. Ninety-six knelt down in front of, resting a hand on top of it and looking at its blackened face. Selena stood over him, watching as he pressed his fingertips against the tainted face. He wiped away the ash, revealing some of the words etched into the stone. It took some time to scrape off some of the tarnishing substance, but eventually he could see what the words read:

 _R.I.P._

 _Kyle_

 _12 February, 2596- 26 April, 2602_

 _Loving son and friend_

The rest of the name was smothered in ash still as Kyle stopped to read it. Miss Ackerson lowered her gaze, staring down at the sickly, burned grass that covered the little boy's final resting place. Spartan 096 stared intently at the heading, raising the picture frame up next to it. Kyle put the frame back down and rubbed the last of the grime away. _Kyle R. Shepard._

His hazel eyes widened, staring at the name. He remembered. There was no mistake now, no doubt left. But he couldn't believe it. _Didn't_ want to believe it.

"It can't...that's not..." Kyle looked down at the photo of the innocent little boy again, starting to gasp for air.

"What?" Selena asked worriedly, taking a step next to him and kneeling down. "Are you okay? What's wrong.

"My...my..." he stammered and fell on both knees, dropping the frame to the ground with a dull clunk and leaning against the tombstone for support. His hand pressed against the temple of his helmet as he tried to control his breathing, drawing slow, deliberate breaths.

Everything looked hazy and dreamlike through his visor, the world no longer seeming to be real. He blinked, and the destruction was gone. A gentle breeze blew past him, a warm sun shined its rays down onto him. _No, that's not right._ Slowly he lifted up his left hand to look at it. A small, chubby, bare hand rose to meet his gaze. He blinked again, trying to dispel the image. The hand remained, twitching its small digits.

 _No, this isn't real._

"Kyle!" a little girl's voice called out.

"Come on, you promised to walk me home!"

 _It can't be real. She can't be real._

He balled his hand into a fist and blinked again. A small child's curled hand was there to meet his gaze again. His mouth fell open, hyperventilating. The hand felt warm, soft- not at all like the hand of a killer. _This isn't me..._

"Kyle!" He jerked his head up and saw a little girl running towards him, waving her hands at him. Rays from the sun shone upon her wavy, golden locks, bright, young green eyes shimmering in the light, happy to see him. She looked like the sweetest thing in the world to him at that moment.

"Come on, you promised!" she yelled, giggling. Kyle couldn't move, couldn't open his mouth. His legs refused to obey him, feet rooted to the spot like tree roots. He looked back down at his hand. Fine surgical scars suddenly spread all over the bare skin. _No, no!_

The girl kept running at a steady pace, closing the distance quickly between them. Too quickly.

"What's wrong with you, silly?" she teased, taking his right hand in her left. The Spartan opened his mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. The scars moved up his arm like Flood tendrils, covering his skin. Involuntarily his eyes shut tightly, sinking the world around him into darkness.

"Do I have to drag you along with me?" the little girl laughed, pulling his arm. His legs moved with a mind of their own, feet stepping slowly behind the girl pulling him along. A large shadow fell over him, blocking the warmth of the sun from hitting his skin. Kyle's eyes flashed open again and for the first time, fear gripped his heart. A solid black silhouette stood tall against the light of the afternoon sun facing them. An angled knife jutted from its large right shoulder, a long sun visor protruded from the top of its helmet. Tank-like armor covered its body and bulky, curved plates on its thighs and upper arms. A large mesh pack sat hooked to its left thigh, the faint outline of a Magnum on its right. Without stopping the girl dragged him along towards the silhouette. Trying with all his might he pulled his arm back away from her, but it wouldn't respond to his commands. She kept giggling, walking ever closer to it. In one last desperate effort he raised his left hand and started to ball it into a fist to hit her. As he drew it up from his side he blinked again- his entire arm was encased in armor, silvery, blue, and bloodstained. The black fingers of the gauntlet twitched uncontrollably before his eyes, making him open his mouth to try and scream one final time.

" _ **NOOOOOOOOO!"**_

"Spartan, are you okay?"

Kyle exhaled heavily, blinking rapidly and turning his head to and fro.

"Hey, Captain..."

The words were fuzzy in his ears, but they still sounded like the little girl.

"Snap out of it big guy, come on..."

Sierra 096 felt something gently shake him. Tilting his head up slowly, he saw the face of the little girl looking down on him, hazy, surreal, and smiling. Steadily the face changed until it had the features of a beautiful young woman who had just turned twenty years old. A look of genuine concern was painted on her face, brow furrowed deeply. As he breathed audibly, her face became more defined and real.

"You're freaking me out right now..." Selena told him, touching the cheek of his helmet lightly to see if she could get his attention. Kyle looked into her bright emerald eyes as his new found revelation dawned on him.

"My friend..." he said softly, looking at Selena as if she were a totally new person.

"Your friend?" she asked, very confused.

"What're you talking about?"

Kyle started to lift his hand up to her cheek, completely lost in the sudden realization. The woman watched his hand nervously, pulling away a little and taking her hands off the Spartan's shoulders. _ONI...they lied to me. They took me from my home, my friends, my family. They replaced me with a...a...a clone. No one ever knew. No one..._ Before his gauntlet met her bare cheek, he stopped himself. Quickly he jerked his hand away, grabbing both her arms instead and gently peeling them off his shoulders. He stood up in one fluid motion, towering above her once more, leaving her extremely puzzled and anxious.

"You mind telling me what's going on?" Selena demanded, rising up on her hands and feet to look the Captain in the face.

"It's nothing ma'am," he answered flatly, composure completely restored.

"Nothing at all."

"Oh really?" she scoffed.

"You looked like you were a thousand miles away and you were breathing like you had just ran five marathons." She crossed her arms and tilted her head at him, staring expectantly. Her fingers tapped her forearm, impatiently waiting for an answer.

"I'm just sorry about your childhood friend. You too must have been very close," Kyle responded monotonically, reaching down beside him to retrieve the frame he had dropped.

"Your friend's last name was Shepard?" He looked back down at the picture in his hands, opening the back of the frame and sliding it out from behind the small glass window.

"We were, and um...yeah, it was," she said hesitantly, watching him retrieve the old photo.

"Hm..." Sierra 096 took one last, long look at the boy he had used to be, thoughts flowing through his head. _I never knew my full name._ With his large, black covered digits he carefully folded the family picture and tucked it away in one of his belt pouches.

"You're gonna keep that?" the blonde woman inquired, her brow furrowing a bit.

"For you, yes."

"Wait," she stopped drumming her fingers, blinking, "for me?"

"Yes." Kyle stared back at her, remembering how grateful he was for his visor. His head stood straight forward as if he were looking at her, but beneath the reinforced, one way reflective coating and titanium, he stared down at the ground.

 _Should I tell her? How would I even explain it? Would she believe me?_

"But...why?"

"You said you were close," he said, again in a flat, emotionless voice.

"Why would you care?" she pointed out accusedly, giving him a stern glare.

"Because I'm sure wherever he is," he breathed, briefly allowing a shimmer of feeling into his answer, "Kyle still cares about you too." His words had come out more touching and poignant than he had intended he soon realized as he watched Selena's agitated expression dissolved completely into bewilderment.

"Well I...I didn't expect you to-"

"Come on, we need to move," Kyle said hurriedly, regretting what he had just did almost immediately. He briskly scooped her up with one arm and flung her over his left shoulder, dropping the old, empty frame he still clutched in his right hand to the ground.

"Hey! Wait!" she cried out, taken aback by how brash he was being right after what he had just said.

"There's no time for waiting anymore. We've wasted enough time going down memory lane."

"What? I just wanted to apologize and thank- _you_!" The wind was knocked out of her as the Spartan ran at a full sprint, leaping over a downed tree effortlessly and thundering across the ruined grass and pavement.

As he sped through the last few miles left between him and the antenna, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to be swept away in his own thoughts.

 _I can never tell Selena what happened to her friend. I don't know why ONI lied to me- lied to_ _ **us**_ _\- but it had to have been for the right reasons. It had to have been. The Spartan IIs may have all died but me, but we've done good work. Protecting humanity- that's more important than one hundred and fifty children's lives. Without us, there would be millions more dead than there are now._

Kyle gritted his teeth and exhaled deeply through his nostrils, his legs pumping steadily one after the other, his right arm swaying back and forth with the momentum.

 _The days of Kyle Shepard are long gone. There's no point in my telling her. It's better to let her think me dead and gone. Better for everyone. If they knew what happened, what their government did..._

He turned his Mk. VI helmet to the side, glancing at Selena with sad, lonely eyes.

 _...Everything we've accomplished would be for nothing. And if I weren't here now with her, she'd be dead too. Just like Mikaela. Giovanni. Summer. Jay._

Turning away, he narrowed his eyes and glared at the road ahead of him, everything shrouded in a thin, sickly, pale green fog. His heart hammered beneath his rib cage, blood running hot in his veins.

 _I have a job to do. There'll be time to mourn the dead another day. Right now, all that matters is my last friend._

His right hand curled tightly into fist, his sense of duty and overwhelming determination taking hold of him thoroughly. He glanced one last time over his shoulder at the confused, bewildered woman holding onto his armored back as if her life depended on it.

 _Even if she'll never know it was me that carried her away from Hell._


	4. Chapter 4- Guardian Angel

_**Guardian Angel**_

 _24 June, 2616_

 _1630 hours_

They should have reached the communications antenna at least fifteen minutes earlier, but Kyle had to pick through more debris and downed buildings than he had liked. It was to be expected of course after the initial bombardment of the city days ago. But what made it even more difficult was evading the Flood that was occupying the surrounding buildings. If it wasn't for him carrying Selena, he could have ploughed straight through their ranks and proceeded to make contact with the _Redemption_.

The city was even more densely packed than it had been pre-destruction, concrete rubble and metal strewn across the entire area. A police station was just across the street from the Spartan's objective, along with a large mall and a parking garage, filled with long-since emptied vehicles. Many of which were destroyed and completely inoperable. The Flood's doing, without question.

On the same side of the street on either side of the Spartan's objective, small fires still burned within the wreckage of buildings whose purpose was now almost entirely indiscernible. The roofs and walls were blackened and caved in, a thick layer of gray concrete dust covering every inch. Kyle stopped in front of the antenna building, scrutinizing the structure and the integrity of the antenna itself. A red light dully blinked at the top and the base covered in soot and grime, but otherwise, it was in acceptable condition. Frankly, it was a miracle it was still standing at all given its older style of design- titanium cross beams, supporting the actual two way receiver and sender node at the very top, shaped in a triangular shape with one large protrusion in the center, lined with a little over a dozen small antennae.

Sierra-096 gently set Selena down on her feet, pulling his Magnum away from his thigh and readying it as he prepared to breach the comm structure's doors. The woman watched nervously, standing close behind him.

"Are you expecting trouble in there?" she asked, eyeing the Magnum.

"There's nothing on the tracker," Kyle said silently, "but I expect hostiles regardless. Stay close to me."

Selena nodded and timidly followed the Spartan's slow, deliberate footsteps as he pushed the door open with his shoulder, keeping a wide stance with his feet. He kept the Magnum raised just below head height, both hands gripping it firmly. The layout inside was fairly simple and boring; two rooms lining the main hall that opened right out towards the main entrance, with a staircase at the very end of the line, taking a ninety-degree turn up towards another set of stairs and leading to a second floor. It was dark inside, very dark. Selena bumped into the Spartan by accident, her eyes not yet adjusted to the blackness. The blue Spartan didn't even flinch from her though, keeping his barrel trained at one doorway to the next, his augmented vision allowing him to make it nearly every detail despite the absence of light. Judging by the set up, he guessed that this building was company owned, operating locally as a communications provider to the citizens of Adros. To get a signal off world and back to the fleet would require every last bit of operating power this place had.

The rooms were disheveled and unorganized, desks and chairs overturned and papers strewn across the floors. Two of the four rooms had shattered shards of coffee mugs as well, dark brown staining the carpeting. Each had one window as well; the two rooms towards the front had windows facing out to view the street, the other two set in the farthest facing wall to look outside at neighboring buildings. Dim light shined through it, smothered by the fog that hung over the atmosphere of the city.

Kyle turned briskly towards his left, training his sidearm at the second doorway to the left. Selena was so close to him when he did this he thumped her with his left elbow, knocking her a few feet into wall with a soft thump.

"Ow! Hey!" she whispered agitatedly.

"I still can't see that well!"

"You wouldn't want to see anyway," Kyle muttered, his gaze following a smeared red trail towards a slouched over body, hunched under the office window. _Someone didn't make it very far._

Studying him from his position in the hall, he could make out a deep, dark hole in the body's stomach. Several long, jagged gashes were cut into its work uniform, blackened blood covering any trace of detail or color the clothing once had. Its right leg was missing, and both arms hung by strands of meat; the right connected only by a few threads of muscle at the elbow, the left hanging extremely low by a singular flap of skin and cord of bloodied tendon at the shoulder. Several bone fragments jutted out from the chest, forearms, fingers, and collar. From what was intact of its features, the Captain guessed it had been a man in life. An unfortunate soul who worked here; he tried to escape too late and was caught by a Flood combat form. By that point his fate had been sealed with no way of retaliating and being caught completely by surprise.

"What, why? What do you see?" she asked, squinting her eyes to get a better look at the room he was facing. Selena thought she saw something in the dim light provided by the window, but all she could make out was a heap of black and dark red.

"Nothing you need to see for yourself, ma'am," Kyle answered softly, taking his left hand off his Magnum and reaching behind him, gently wrapping its large fingers around her right.

"But-"

"Trust me," he insisted, pulling her along with him as he turned towards the last room, using his Magnum to scan it from left to right.

"There's nothing anyone can do for that man now." Firmly tugging her along, Kyle climbed the steps silently, sidearm pointed at a slightly elevated angle in front of his visor,

"Wait...that was a dead-?"

"Shhh..." the Spartan interrupted, leading her up the last few steps and easing open a beaten, blood smeared door.

The hinges creaked and groaned in protest until it was wide enough for him to proceed. Several lights flickered and the low crackle of static filled the, giving the place an even more haunting and foreboding atmosphere. Selena felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she shivered involuntarily, tightening her grip on Kyle's hand. The Captain led her down a straight, narrow path through the second floor. There were no individual rooms, just one large, open space filled with cubicles and desk. Nothing stood upright though; everything was destroyed and splintered, as if a tiny tornado had moved through the whole of this level, smashing and scattering absolutely all of its contents. Selena noticed even more blood splattered about, like a toddler had smeared red finger paint all about in one of its usual acts of mischief. She felt like she was going to faint and leaned up against the Spartan, trying to steady herself.

"You always take me to such nice places..." she said, deeply repulsed and fearful.

"You won't have to see this much longer," Kyle said as reassuringly as he could, waving his Magnum steadily to and fro, glancing repeatedly at the motion tracker in the bottom left corner of his visor all the while.

"I don't think I'll ever celebrate Halloween again after this..." Selena closed her eyes tightly, seeing a lifeless hand beneath the splintered wood of a palm colored desk, fingers stained with crimson splotches and a bone jutting out at the wrist.

"This is strange," Kyle muttered. It was meant to be to himself, but his distant friend was able to hear what he said as well.

"I thought you were used to this sort of thing," she said, glancing up at his visor. He looked at her, pausing for a moment.

"I am. That's not what I was talking about."

"Then what are you talking abo-?" One of the lighting fixtures fell from the ceiling behind them, crashing loudly and shattering the flickering bulbs, glass, and splashing a bit of thick, grimy dust over Selena. She coughed loudly, letting go of the Spartan's hand and pulling away to wipe it off her face.

"Goddammit!" she yelled between coughs, "I just want things to be normal again!"

Her eyes stung a bit as she rubbed the dust away with the cuffs of her ill-fitting, scavenged clothes. When she looked back up, the Captain was aiming his sidearm towards her.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked nervously, shakily raising her hands to try and get him to lower the gun.

" _Ugggggggh..._ " Selena's eyes widened as she heard the low moan emanate from behind her. Without warning Kyle fired once, the round flying past so close to her cheek she felt the air ripple against her.

" _UGGGGGGH!_ "

Another alien moan, louder and angrier this time. Selena spun on her heels to see the bulky, misshapen mass of a Flood monster, a distorted human face with pupiless eyes staring up at her from the ground. Its mouth hung wide open, teeth stained with sickly yellow and green splashes. Mucus filled blood flowed out of its center where the round passed through, pooling underneath it.

"OH MY GOD!" she shrieked, falling on her hands and feet and trying to crawl towards Kyle.

Kyle quickly grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and tossed her across the room, making her land hard against the battered remains of a cubicle wall. She heard the faint humming of his shields as he lunged headlong at the creature, drawing his shoulder knife with his left hand in midair and plunging it deep into the center of its body. Small tendrils quivered and waved all about around the point of impact as he jammed it deeper inside it. The Flood moaned even louder, flailing its two slender tentacle arms in desperation. The Captain slammed his pistol to his thigh and drew his second knife, jabbing it hard into the enormous fleshy sack that made up the majority of the monster's body. Viciously he slashed and stabbed the blade all over it, making it spurt more mucus filled blood over his navy blue armor. Tearing out both blades he plunged them in together one last time inside the Flood's midsection.

It made a terrible shrieking cry, trying to raise its arms to combat the ruthless, surprise onslaught. By the time it could, life had faded from its whole body. Its limbs fell limp as Kyle raised himself off the disgusting mass of bulbous flesh, wiping the blades off on his thigh plates. Just as he was sheathing his first combat knife on his collarbone, the Flood's body exploded in a wet, disgusting pop, sending eight large football shaped projectiles sailing through the air.

Selena watched in horror as she made out what they were. She screamed, fumbling to her feet and taking shelter beneath a desk. Kyle rapidly swiped his Magnum off his thigh once more and let loose four consecutive shots, killing half of the Flood infection forms before they even touched the ground. They exploded in small pops of mucus and sickly green-yellow tissue. Spinning to his left, he slammed his Magnum down onto his raised left wrist, steadying his aim with it and pointing his shoulder knife out towards the new enemies. He fired three more times, killing two more and crippling a third with his deadly aim. It hobbled feebly on its spider like legs towards a corpse covered in ruined papers and chunks of tile ceiling.

 _Not this time._ Kyle was about to swap the mag of his sidearm when he saw another small, red dot moving towards the only friendly yellow dot on his motion tracker. Without a moment's hesitation he ran towards the desk Selena overturned, dropping the empty mag from his sidearm to the floor and shoving a new one into the grip, the slide clicking back loudly.

Selena cowered beneath the broken desk, panting and gasping in fear as she heard the gunshots from across the room. She heard a faint scuttling nearby and tucked herself into a corner as tightly as she could, covering her mouth with her hands. The scuttling got closer and closer, and soon she saw the barbed tendrils of an infection form just above her, as if they were searching for her. _Please, don't look under here. Please don't, oh please oh please..._

 _ **BAM!**_

She saw the small, spider like body of the Flood form careen through the air a short distance and hit the ground hard, a huge hole punched through it. It's legs and tendrils twitched, curling up beside it as its life drained out through the pungent pus that spilled from its wound. Selena quickly got up and looked over the desk, watching wide-eyed in horror as Kyle turned his attention to a corpse that was beginning to shake violently on the ground. The once lifeless body of a middle-aged man who had worked there rapidly transformed into a misshapen, hulking brute, flesh molting into revolting shades of yellow and green. Veins and arteries became highly visible and bulged out, a painful cry emanating from the man's mouth as he was forcibly brought back from the grave.

 _ **BAM!**_

Another loud Magnum shot rang out and hit the mutating man in center mass, the exploding round ripping a large hole in the transforming flesh. The body fell to ground just as it was beginning to stand, the infection form lodged in its chest wiggling its tendrils angrily. A long, boney blade begun to sprout out from the corpse's left arm, curved and asymmetrical. Tentacles sprouted from its right forearm and it began to bring itself to its feet.

 _ **BAM!**_

A round passed right through the parasite itself, splattering yellow pus and dark crimson blood all over its hosts' torso, spraying a bit onto the Spartan's chest and forearms. The infection form was completely torn apart and with the loss of its control, the nearly fully converted body fell back to the ground with a wet thud, completely motionless.

Selena watched silently from her position, thoroughly shaken and at a loss for words. Sierra 096 turned back to her, slipping the partially emptied magazine out of his weapon with his left hand and trading it for his last full one from his belt, still clutching the shoulder knife. His thumb locked the safety in place with a small click as he returned his knife to its large, angular sheath. Stopping in front of her on the other side of the ruined desk, he knelt down slightly, looking at her. Her teeth were clenched tightly and her eyes were still one the lifeless Flood body, wide and beginning to glisten with tears.

"That thing...it...it came out of nowhere...and it made more of them..."

"It was a carrier form," Kyle said, turning his head to the left to look at what was left of the fleshy, balloon like monster he had first neutralized.

"When a combat form is injured too badly, or gets too old, it morphs into that," he nodded his head towards it.

"They have the potential to make over a dozen new parasites at a time."

"Please stop..."

Turning his head back to her, Kyle saw Selena shut her eyes tightly, gripping the edges of the wooden desk until her knuckles turned white. Gingerly he put a hand over one of her's, leaning over towards her a bit.

"Come on, we've got one more floor."

"...Will there be more of them up there?" she asked, sniffling. The Spartan put his other hand on her cheek, moving her head to look up at him.

"If there are, they'll die too," he answered solemnly, tucking his fingers beneath her hand and prying it away from its choke hold on the wood.

Reluctantly, Selena let go and allowed the Captain to lead her toward the end of the room, ascending the final two flights of stairs. They entered a darkened communications center, filled with small trafficking consoles and desks. A wide screen dominated the wall to their right as they entered, chaotic static covering its surface. There were several large cracks in the glass, as well as a long, uninterrupted, bloody smear.

Almost a dozen bodies littered the floor and workstations, lying in various forms of dismemberment. One still sat in a wheeled chair behind the main console, connected to the large screen that served as the front of the room. His chest had been filled with small arms fire and he had a long, deep cut across his throat, making his head tilt back far behind him. Kyle let go of Selena's hand and briskly walked over to him, pressing his pistol to his thigh and pushing the corpse's chair aside. He began tapping a few of the console's keys, seeing if it would respond to any input. Unsurprisingly, it didn't.

"Well um...I'm really glad there's no more of those things in here," Selena spoke up, nervously picking her way through the mess on the floor towards him.

She glanced over at the hole in the floor, the part that had collapsed and nearly fell on her, letting the Flood carrier down that they had encountered. Wires hung low from it and swayed to and fro, bits of rubble and dust still falling downwards.

"It doesn't make sense." The Captain spoke in a low, cold tone, still fiddling with the controls in front of him.

"You mentioned something like that earlier..." she said, standing to his right and watching his fingers tap persistently on the buttons.

"But, isn't it good that there's not a ton of them in here?"

"Yes and no," he muttered, slapping the controls agitatedly.

"Piece of shit..."

"What do you mean, 'yes and no?'" Selena continued to ask, blinking rapidly once when she heard the loud slap.

"The Flood have left too many useful hosts behind here. Something's not right." He knelt down and ripped open one of the console's panels, pulling out wires and drawing his combat knife from its collarbone sheath.

"Usually they infect as many as they can, then gather the bodies of ones that could potentially be used to expand their overall intelligence," he continued speaking, his eyes completely focused on his task. Kyle slid the blade beneath two of the wires, cutting them in half with a quick upward flick of his wrist, then began carefully peeling away their colored coating to expose the bare metal beneath.

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"The Gravemind, Ms. Ackerson. They use gathered bodies to form a Gravemind," Sierra 096 turned his head to the right slightly to look at her, waiting for her to recall what he told her.

"Oh...yeah...that..." Selena trailed off, remembering their conversation at the hospital. She had tried to push it out of her mind and forget it; the very thought of something like that made her feel like her heart was caught in her throat.

The Captain sheathed his knife and fed the exposed wires into two small openings on his wrist computer. A bright orange glow emanated from the screen and he began tapping away on it, the reflection captured in the dark by his visor as Selena watched. It flashed and blinked several times, making Kyle sigh heavily. His breath rasped, low and staticky through the Mk. VI's audio projectors.

"What's wrong?" she asked, moving to his left to peer over his shoulder, trying to get a good look at the screen on his wrist.

"Nothing. Just need to reroute primary power," he answered, pressing the wrist computer's screen once more.

"Reroute?"

"Yes. I'll need to divert all power from my armor to the antenna to get a strong enough signal offworld." His battle-scarred helmet turned to look at her from over his left shoulder.

"Take a seat." Kyle nodded towards the dead man in the wheeled chair he had pushed aside.

"I'm sure he won't object."

"Um..." Selena scanned her eyes over the bloody, bullet riddled mess of the seat's occupant, wincing a bit.

"I think I'll feel better if I sit on the floor next to you..."

"Copy that," the Spartan responded dismissively, turning his attention away from her and back to his forearm.

Selena knelt down on the floor next to him, watching him press a short string of command keys. It resulted in a bright three dimensional diagram of his suit being displayed in the center of the touch sensitive surface, light blue lines tracing its contours and outline. It rotated to show the back of the armor, highlighting a very small section inside his back. Then a message appeared in small, black letters with a thin orange line pointing to the highlighted, yellow section:

 _Warning- Rerouting MJOLNIR Mk V/B Powered Assault Armor fusion reactor output will deactivate pressurized seals, shields, force-multiplying circuits, memory process superconductor layer, reactive circuits, and polymerized lithium nibocene layer._

 _Proceed? Yes No_

With a large, black index finger the Spartan pressed: _Yes._ Near instantaneously he felt all power to his suit leave, his HUD disappearing and the absence of the artificial temperature regulation provided by the gel layer making him grow hot inside the heavy, titanium armor. He sighed, grinning a bit as the suit's auxiliary power cut on shortly afterwards, restoring all his systems to a minimum margin of fifty percent effectiveness. He glanced at the woman watching him, his brief moment of happiness fading as quickly as it had come.

"Stay silent once I establish a connection to the command ship. They'll need to know the situation down here," Kyle told her calmly, preparing to start transmitting.

"Um...yeah, sure. No problem," she said hesitantly, sliding away from him a short distance to give him room.

"Thank you ma'am." Tapping the screen two more times, he began broadcasting on an open channel.

"Sierra zero-niner-six to UNSC _Redemption_ , requesting immediate extraction at coordinates november tree-five, four-six, four-six point five-two-three, whiskey seven-eight, tree-eight, one-seven point four-four-tree. I repeat, this is Sierra zero-"

"Um...don't you mean 'three?'" Selena asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's the phonetic pronunciation of the number three," he explained.

"Oh...sorry..." she trailed off, embarrassed. Kyle ignored her and went back to repeating his transmission once more:

"Sierra zero-niner-six to UNSC _Redemption_ , requesting immediate extraction at coordinates november tree-five, four-six, four-six point five-two-three, whiskey seven-eight, tree-eight, one-seven point four-four-tree. I repeat, this is Sierra zero-niner-six..."

 _24 June, 2616_

 _1715 hours_

 _Command bridge of UNSC_ Redemption

Valiant _-class super-heavy cruiser_

 _Orbit above UNSC World Emerald Cove_

Fleet Admiral Wolfe looked over the two dozen stations housed within his command bridge, watching the his crewmen work in absolute silence. Dim lights flashed on the various consoles and monitors as he slowly strode by, glancing over his subordinates shoulders and frowning. It had been a little over two days since he had first sent his Spartan Captain down to the planet's surface with two platoons of Marines during the engagement he'd been forced to partake in. It was risky sending Sierra-096 down in a Pelican during the course of that, but it was the only option available. They couldn't let the separatists bombard this world from orbit and kill thousands of innocents; it was against everything the Admiral had stood for. His sense of honor and integrity defined his twenty-five year long service, and he was not about to throw those beliefs aside.

Even if it had been the right thing to do, he still worried for the men he had sent down there. Something wasn't right about this situation; the ONI operative aboard, acting as his second in command, urging him to deploy the Spartan down to Emerald Cove's made that feeling grow even more.

Wolfe continued to walk down the line, finally stopping at forward facing viewport, staring out at the lush garden world his craft hovered above. Emerald Cove's surface looked so serene and calm, a person never would have guessed there had been a vicious blitz on its capital city.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" The ONI operative walked up from behind him, taking his place to the right of the Admiral, putting his hands behind his back.

"It certainly looks that way from up here, Major," Wolfe said halfheartedly, his thoughts still with the mission at hand.

"You did the right thing sending Niner-Six. It's in humanity's best interest after all," the Major said, turning to give the Admiral a reassuring smile.

"Hmph," the veteran officer grunted.

"He doesn't seem like he used to be. The deaths of his squadmates are getting to him."

"Captain Niner-Six will complete his objectives regardless of personal feelings Fleet Admiral, I can assure you," the Major said respectfully, turning his attention back to the glowing, verdant world that hung in the void.

"Of course he will," the Admiral turned to his XO, giving him a hard stare, "but that boy has done more than enough of his fair share of military service. He's served on this ship with me for six long years."

"What are you saying, sir?" the Major turned to his left to properly face his commanding officer.

"Isn't it about time he was given proper shoreleave?"

"I'm afraid that's out of the question, sir. My superiors require his exemplary skills to ensure humanity's continued existence."

"That's a load of horse shit," Wolfe growled, looking the operative in the eye. His icy blue eyes seemed to cut right through the man's deep brown visage.

"ONI claims to protect humanity, but they've always followed their own agenda.

Ever since you've brought these Spartans aboard we've been on so many shady ops that I'm expecting to nuke Earth from orbit any day now. You spooks are up to something, and you've got us, and your Spartans, running around in the dark."

"Fleet Admiral Hudson Wolfe II, allow me to assure you once again that our Spartan IIs serve the UNSC, Earth, and all her colonies with the utmost discipline and valor," he returned the hard stare, adding, "as well as I and my colleagues. There is no conspiracy here, despite what you may think."

"I believe that about as much as I believe in the Tooth Fairy," he laughed bitterly, crossing his arms.

"You haven't even given your real name. Or the Spartans' for that matter."

"My name is Major John Doe, as I told you before," the Operative replied smugly.

"And the Spartans' identities will always be kept with the utmost secrecy. They're not like the Spartan IVs, blundering about like boy scouts in power armor. They're IIs- they're held to the highest standards of any military personnel alive. All you need to know is that they'll do their jobs and do them well. Even if it means their deaths."

"Yes, you seem very proud of the last one especially," he scowled, "since there's only one left."

"Sir!" A shout from one of his bridge officers made the Admiral turn sharply on his heel, eyes darting towards the direction he heard his subordinate. The Major was about to respond, but he was cut off by the outburst.

"We've got a weak signal coming in from the planet's surface on an unsecured channel! I'm scrubbing the static now." The communication's officer isolated the frequency and began running a trace, adjusting the comm frequency. Steadily over the static, a distinct, familiar voice could be heard by everyone on the bridge.

" _...repeat, Sierra zero-niner-six to UNSC Redemption, requesting immediate extraction at coordinates november tree-five, four-six, four-six point five-two-three, whiskey seven-eight, tree-eight, one-seven point four-four-tree. I repeat, this is Sierra zero-niner-six..."_

"Get him on screen, now!" Wolfe barked, rushing briskly past his XO and his bridge officers towards his comm specialist, everyone watching him as he moved.

"I'm trying sir, but there's not enough power on his end. There's a lot of interference groundside as well."

"Then get me a clear audio transmission!" he shouted, arriving behind the communications console.

"And get those coordinate down to one of the dropships! Tell them to stand-by for immediate departure!"

"Aye, aye sir!"

The officer's fingers danced across his controls. Another began to relay the orders to one of the Pelican dropships docked within the cruiser. As Admiral Wolfe began to speak to the Spartan, the Major quickly closed the distance between himself and his CO, stopping to stand at his left.

"Sierra zero-niner-six, this is _Redemption,_ Fleet Admiral Wolfe. We read you and have received your coordinates: november tree-five, four-six, four-six point five-two-three, whiskey seven-eight, tree-eight, one-seven point four-four-tree. Give assessment of situation groundside, Captain..."

 _24 June, 2616_

 _1745 hours_

 _Emerald Cove_

Selena listened to the Spartan super soldier repeat the same message nonstop for the past half hour, in his usual monotone, militaristic tone. For a brief moment he would pause, then immediately say the same damned line over again. It almost sounded like he was rehearsing for a movie, if she was perfectly honest. Slowly the woman had begun to lose hope that anyone would ever answer his calls for help and she began to lean to the side. The effects of the surgery and medication Sierra 096 had given her taking their toll. Through all the excitement and running around he had put her through, Selena had all but forgotten about the pain in her lower abdomen and the aches that racked the rest of her body. Her eyelids grew heavy and the Captain's steady droning became muffled and quiet as she drifted to sleep.

" _Sierra zero-niner-six, this is Redemption, Fleet Admiral Wolfe. We read you and have received your coordinates: november tree-five, four-six, four-six point five-two-three, whiskey seven-eight, tree-eight, one-seven point four-four-tree. Dammit, fucking boost the signal more Lieutenant!"_

Selena's green eyes flashed wide open, her whole body shooting upright and leaning in close to the blue Spartan.

"I read you loud and clear sir, over," Kyle responded promptly, staring down at his wrist computer. A feeling of success washed over him.

" _About damn time! We have your signal isolated Captain, we're secure on this frequency. I need a full status report now."_

The Admiral's voice still had a tinge of static, but other than that it was coherent enough. He barely tried to mask his irritation and impatience.

"All units accompanying me have been terminated sir; there are no survivors within the city limits except for a young woman that I have with me now. Her condition was critical, but I stabilized her."

" _Goddammit Spartan...alright, at least it's not a total loss. What happened to the Marines? Were there hostiles down there? It doesn't seem likely they could have sent more ground troops to engage you after we chased them off their bombing run."_

"Yes sir, but it wasn't enemy soldiers."

" _Then what the Hell was it? There were over two dozen men with you niner-six, I ex-"_

"Sir, it was the Flood."

" _...the flying fuck did you just say?"_

"The Flood, sir. It appears that the separatists were housing at least three, live subjects within the city's primary medical facility. I discovered a small laboratory, hidden deep within the structure and very well equipt. The parasite broke containment and began to infect the populace."

" _So...they were incinerating innocent people to cover their asses..."_

"It would appear so, sir. We need immediate extraction from Adros Admiral. There's nothing left here for us to save."

" _I already have a Pelican firing up its engines. It'll be there within the next four ho-"_

" _Admiral Wolfe, multiple warships closing in on our coordinates! Coming in from starboard and bow sir!"_

" _Shit!"_ Wolfe grunted agitatedly, putting Kyle's transmission on hold briefly as he barked orders on the other side. Selena looked up at his visor, waiting for the Admiral to return impatiently. The Spartan returned her gaze, then snapped his eyes back to is U/GPS when the Admiral returned.

" _Captain, my orders still stand. Get that girl out of there and signal the Pelican with a red flare. Expect extraction within 2100 to 2200, over."_

"Copy that sir, I'll-"

" _If I may interject, Fleet Admiral..."_ A new voice came over the Spartan's audio transmitter. It sounded proper, intelligent, and a bit pompous to Selena. The Captain visibly tensed in his armor, something she wasn't used to seeing.

" _My superiors have new orders for our Spartan II. Under normal circumstances we would have relayed them to him earlier, but because of the initial onslaught and the rather poor timing of his departure-"_

" _Get on with it Major,"_ Wolfe growled over the U/GPS.

" _Thank you, Admiral,"_ the Major replied sincerely.

" _Now, Sierra zero-niner-six, can you confirm that there is in fact a Flood outbreak on the surface of the planet, over?"_

"Yes, sir..." Kyle answered professionally, though beneath the titanium his teeth were gritted.

"Would you like me to transmit video recordings from my MJOLNIR's memory banks, over?"

" _No, those files are now confidential upon your return Spartan. Your word is enough. Moving on; before your departure I was sent instructions to have you locate any facility that may have connections to hazardous biological experimentation. You were to ignore all other previously given mission parameters and secure any and all data tied to the aforementioned facility. I-"_

"I secured the research data off a damaged console in the lab, which I mentioned to the Fleet Admiral before, over," the Captain informed him, cutting him off intentionally. Glancing over to his left he still saw Selena sitting closely next to him, staring intently at his forearm as the conversation went on.

" _Well then Captain, your mission is complete. Find a secure place to hold out for the Pelican and be ready for a thorough debriefing. As far as the data is concerned, ONI has deemed it strictly classified; we cannot risk it being intercepted over any sort of comm channel and is to be returned to me alone. You understand, of course, yes? Over."_

"No Major, I don't. Over."

" _What part of you orders are unclear, Sierra 096? Over." the ONI operative asked, a slightly annoyed edge in his voice._

"You said to ignore all orders given to me by my CO, which means-"

" _It means to leave any and all survivors you may have found in Adros-"_

" _Wait just a fucking minute spook!" Wolfe's grizzled, gruff voice interjected._

" _I agree that data is of the utmost importance, but leaving survivors to die on a planet filled with the nastiest motherfuckers Hell can cook up is out of the question!"_

"You can't leave me here to die! Listen to him!"

Kyle turned sharply towards to the woman next to him, her eyes wide with disbelief. He put one gauntleted hand over her mouth, silencing her as he repositioned himself to allow the wires attached to his left forearm enough room to not strain. The Spartan had to sit at an odd angle with his right hand over Ms. Ackerson's mouth.

 _"Who was that, Niner-Six?"_ the Major's voice asked pointedly.

"The sole survivor that I've found," he answered calmly.

"Her name is Se-"

" _Her name isn't of any import to you anymore Captain. Leave her."_

"Sir, I don't understand. I'm perfectly capable of rescuing her and bringing you the information gleaned from the Flood experimentation facility."

" _How did you even know there would be a 'hazardous biological' facility in the first place?"_ Wolfe cut in again, his temper rising by the minute.

" _I suggest you calm down sir, or I'll be forced to-"_

" _To do what? Spew more bullshit? This is my boat. MY fleet. You wanna stay on it? I suggest you start talking."_

" _ONI's interests come before your chain's, with all due respect sir."_

" _And I outrank you, son. I'm not ONI, and this is a UNSC NAVCOM operation. You wanna keep getting technical, or do you want to tell us why? Because I don't mind throwing your ass in the brig right now."_

Kyle slowly lifted his hand away from his childhood friend's mouth, staring steadily into her eyes. They looked like they were on the verge of tears at any moment. Pressing one finger over his helmet where the titanium covered his mouth, he shushed her silently as he waited for the argument to finish.

 _"Very well. The Office of Naval Intelligence had reason to believe that the capital of Emerald Cove housed at least one unapproved, illegal biological study site. From the intel that our Spartans have gathered for us in the past six months, we've become aware that the opposition has been advancing their interests in the Flood super-cell. It is highly probable that they have tampered with the cellular structure and nature of the parasite, and in the process, made it act more erratically and able to infect hosts outside of pre-established vectors."_

" _They've done...what?"_ the Fleet Admiral trailed off, completely dumbstruck by this latest intel.

" _That's right. The woman you've saved Sierra zero-niner-six is quite possibly already infected."_

"No! It can't be true! I feel fine! I'm not like those-!" Kyle interrupted by covering her mouth again with his hand, slowly taking all the information in.

"That can't be right sir," he said, "Ms. Ackerson has shown no signs of infection. There have been no spores present in the atmosphere and she has been untouched by any parasite. If she was as you said, I doubt she would have remained in her current condition for as long as she has."

" _The super-cell could have been made to lie dormant in a host for an extended period of time,"_ the Major rebuttaled.

"I operated on her to remove trace amounts of shrapnel and iron in her bloodstream. There were no other anomalies in her blood tests, pre and post surgery," Kyle challenged, taking his hand away from Ackerson again.

" _Are you arguing with a superior officer, Captain?"_ the man asked curtly.

"No sir, I'm stating facts. This woman is not infected."

" _How can you possibly be sure with your rudimentary tests?"_

"We can bring her aboard and-"

" _Son...he's right,"_ Wolfe said in a saddened, defeated tone.

" _She could infect the whole crew. We can't take that chance..."_

Kyle sat speechlessly for several moments. Here he was, a hero, a Spartan II, made for the sole purpose of protecting and saving innocents like the one that sat next to him. But every time he did, every time he tried, more perished than the ones he had actually protected. All his friends were dead. The Marines he had fought beside on dozens of worlds, dead. ODSTs, dead. All the other Spartan teams, _dead_. And now, his last remaining friend, the only one that had any connection his childhood before the kidnapping, before the training, the augmentation, any of it- she was to be left behind like all the rest.

Behind the emotionless, blank gold his eyes drifted over the small computer he had been speaking into. Finally they came to rest on Selena's face, drinking in her features. She shivered, emerald eyes brimming with water, mouth ajar and drawing in shallow breaths. Her skin was pale and had grown dirty again, the ill fitting pants and coat covered in dust and grime. Another shiver racked her body in spite of how warm it was, a muffled whimper escaping her mouth. For the first time in a very long time, Kyle's heart ached.

 _I'm sorry._

" _Captain, do you understand your orders?"_

His eyes slowly drifted back to the U/GPS screen, his whole body tensing and aching with a phantom pain. He shut them and sighed deeply, a staticy rasp emanating from his helmet's audio transmitters.

 _"Sierra 096, respond."_

"I..." he trailed off, losing himself in Selena's pleading visage. A single tear ran down her cheek.

"Please..." she whispered, clasping her hands in front of her mouth.

" _Captain, I am waiting for your affirmation,"_ the Major's voice spoke, growing more impatient by the minute.

"...Acknowledged, sir. Orders received."

Selena stared at him in disbelief, moving away from him slowly.

" _Excellent. Redemption out."_

The connection was severed on the other end, filling the room with the low crackle of white noise. For several long moments, Kyle stayed knelt down on the ground staring into the blank screen of the U/GPS, completely silent and motionless. Tears streamed down Selena's face, body heaving with quiet cries of despair as she continued to stare at the Spartan who had just betrayed her. She gasped for breaths in between sobs.

"How...how could you...after everything you did..."

Sierra 096 remained still, as if he were lost in thought. The woman didn't notice though in her emotional breakdown, opting instead to carry on with her fit.

"How could you, huh? How could you!?" she shakily got to her feet, glaring at him through the tears flooding her eyes. The water poured down her cheeks, washing away the dirt in thick, uneven lines until it dripped to the floor.

"How could you think I'm one of those things!? After all this time, after you said you'd save me, you...you..." Selena steadied herself against a desk, feeling the pain of her surgery shoot up through her body. She let out all the tears she possibly could, no longer caring what happened anymore. There was no hope for her, no second chance, no fresh start, nothing. As far as she was concerned, she was as good as Flood food now.

"Just kill me now, please..."

"No."

Selena ceased crying almost immediately, steadily turning her head towards the Spartan. She watched him rise to his full height in one fluid motion, arms held at his sides throughout the process. His helmet was pointed at the floor, fists clenched tightly. Something about his tone was different. Agitated? No. Angry? Maybe...but it sounded like something more.

"What?" she asked, feeling confused and terribly vulnerable.

"I'm not going to kill you."

Quietly he reached into a small, bloodstained pouch on his belt. A faint clinking sound of metal against metal followed as he pulled his left hand from the opening, holding up what looked like a mess of dog tags in front of his visor. Raising his gaze, he gingerly turned his hand open, letting them fall flat in his palm.

"Then what are you going to do, hide me? It's useless, they'll-"

"No."

Blinking in bewilderment, she absently wiped away the tears on her face with the back of her hand.

"I don't understand then..."

"You're coming with me."

"Wha-what? I thought they told you not to, that I was infe-"

"I know what they told me," his fingers wrapped tightly around his friends' dog tags. He clenched his fist so firmly it began to shake a bit.

"You're not infected. I don't believe it."

"But, you're disobeying orders. Can't they court martial you, put you in prison?" she sniffled out, turning away from him.

Kyle walked over to her as she spoke, making no noise as he closed the distance. He stopped to stand next to her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him and turned her head to look at him, the sclera and rims of her eyes red and still tear filled.

"Don't lie to me, don't get my hopes up just to betray me..."

"I'm not."

A large hand tenderly touched her left cheek, lifting her face up to peer into the reflective gold of the Captain's "face." She couldn't help but gape at him with the most dumbfounded look ever plastered across her features.

"Bu-but...but that...doesn't seem like you...at all..."

He continued to stare back at her, not uttering a word.

"Why?..." she asked, not sure whether to be very afraid or very grateful.

Gently the Spartan pried her away from the desk and turned her body so that she face him straight on. The dog tags clenched in his left hand pressed against her shoulder as he held her in place.

"Because..." he trailed off, tearing his eyes away from her's for a moment.

"I don't care anymore."

 _24 June, 2616_

 _1825 hours_

Totally taken aback by his sudden change of tone, Selena found herself being hastily led out of that corpse ridden building by Sierra 096. His defiance to direct orders unnerved her, but at the same time she felt overwhelmingly grateful. To her, the eight foot tall, navy blue soldier had seemed so cold and distant, completely detached from all feelings that a normal man would have. Ever since he had made her lead him to Kyle's grave, he seemed to have changed. He was still cold now, but glimpses into a kinder, more deeply sympathetic personality kept shining through the cracks of his steely armor of indifference. Brought about by his training and everything he had been through no doubt.

And as the Captain had silently carried her through ravaged streets over his shoulder to ease her pain, Selena truly began to understand all this. Where once she was angry and confused, she now had faith. Faith that whoever this Spartan might be, he would do whatever it took to drag her out of the darkness and back into the light. For the first time in a long time, she had found a hero to believe in. Perhaps one day, he'd be her friend. Tell her his name, the things he'd seen and done, the friends he once had himself. _Oh, the stories he must have..._

For almost half an hour, he had run with her strewn across his shoulder like a duffle bag. Emerald eyes growing heavy with exhaustion, she fell asleep like that, the steady rhythm of the super soldier's running soothing her. Soon after she had drifted off, Sierra 096 came to a stop, jolting her awake with a loud bang. Lids still half shut, she tried to peer around his arm, surveying what he was doing. He had kicked open the glass door to the Adros city police department, at least she thought it was; she could barely make out the organizational crest and the giant letters A.P.D. above it as he briskly walked through the main lobby. All the lights were out, casting the interior in near total darkness as they made their way down a hallway set to the right of the front desk. Her vision tried to adjust, but she still couldn't see a thing to save her life. She could smell the repulsive stench of dead flesh though, so she was a bit thankful for the lack of sight.

"Hey, what are we here for?" she asked, still groggy from waking up.

"Ammunition. Weapons. Armor," he replied cooly,

"Oh...wait, did you say armor?" Selena raised her head a bit, trying to look at the Spartan's helmet.

"Affirmative."

"Um...for who?"

In the dark she felt the Captain punch the wall to the right several times, making a dull thud. On the fifth hit, a flickering light poured out of the doorway of the room he was standing in.

"You."

Bringing her inside, Kyle sat Selena down on a long stainless steel bench bolted into the floor next to a long row of grey lockers. Turning her head from one of the room to the other, she sighed, relieved there were no bodies in sight. Then she spoke.

"Uh, you sure about th-?"

 _ **Bang!**_

 __Selena was cut off by Sierra 096 noisily punching open a locker, tearing the door of its hinges with one hand and rummaging through its contents with the other. Tossing the dented steel to the ground with a loud clatter, he reached inside with the other hand and pulled out a neatly folded stack of clothes. He turned to her and held them out for her to see.

"Will these do?"

Hesitantly she took the stack from him, inspecting them as he stood silently over her waiting. A black thirty-eight C bra and a small black thong to match was set on top of a thick pair of equally black pants and long sleeve shirt.

"Well, uh...the bra and panties are my size but...I don't usually wear thongs..." She looked up at him as he began to turn, raising his fist to hit another locker.

"Wait! It's fine, it still fits!" her eyes went wide and she raised her hand for him to stop. Hesitantly, he lowered his arm and turned to her again.

"Good. Put it on, time is short."

"Ummm..."

"What is it?"

"Could you maybe...turn around?" she asked shyly, gesturing with her index finger to turn away.

Without a word, Kyle pivoted on one heel and put his back to her, crossing his arms over his chest plate as he waited.

"Thanks..." she said softly, gingerly taking off the ill fitting, ratty looking clothes she had on.

The undergarments fit perfectly, but the black uniform was a bit too tight for her liking. It didn't feel like normal fabric; it was very dense and thick, with a slick water retardant coating all over its exterior. Pulling the pants over her legs proved to be bit difficult, being very snug and clinging to her skin. Once she finally did, her feet were wrapped in the same dark material that the rest of her lower body was. She wriggled her toes underneath it just to test her mobility; it was still very taught, but she guessed the pants were new and had never been worn.

Next she reached for the suit's long sleeve shirt, pushing her head through the hole first and reaching behind her head to get her hair out from inside the hole. One arm went through each sleeve, the woman struggling a bit with how figure-hugging it was. When her hands finally bursted out, she sighed, pulling the hem down to her waist and standing up to look herself over.

"Hm...black isn't really me but..." she grinned, feeling very sexy despite herself.

"You can look now, Spartan."

When Kyle turned back around, he found her completely redressed and smiling at him.

"How do I look?" she winked teasingly at him, doing one spin on her toes to give him an all around view. The Spartan tilted his head to the side, a bit perplexed.

"Here," he said, ignoring her and holding out a small elastic, black band.

"Tie up your hair as tight as you can."

"...how come?" Selena asked, her smile replaced with a frown.

"For this."

Kyle stepped to the side, letting her peer into the locker he had torn open. On a shelf set high up inside the space was a rounded, matte black helmet. Its cranium sloped downwards softly, leading towards a narrow, flat forehead. Below it was a small, pale silver visor that gently curved upwards, melding back into the helmet's forehead. The flat edge just barely inched out over the reflective surface. Small rhombus shaped filters were set vertically on their wider sides against each cheek, jutting forward about two thirds of the way across the titanium casing's jawline. The mouthpiece itself was charcoal gray, almost blending in with the black paint.

Selena's gaze drifted further down as she slowly sat, looking at a neatly piled set of matte black armor. It appeared to be a significantly lighter and smaller version of the Spartan's armor, not as tank-like and more rounded. Without her noticing Kyle placed the hair band on her lap, proceeding to pull out a pair of mesh boots. He put them down next to her feet, turning around again to scoop up the thigh and pelvic pieces.

"Tie your hair," he said, setting the plates on the bench next to her and kneeling before her.

She watched him for a few moments as she did as she was told in apprehensive silence. Each boot slid over her feet, the laces drawn tight by the Spartan's fingers. They felt like they weighed almost ten pounds, with dense plating reaching up from them to cover her shins in fully. Underneath the armor pieces he had placed beside her the Captain withdrew two wide knee plates, both matte black just like the rest of the metal. However each had a single silver stripe running down the center. Several cross straps wrapped over the bends of her knees, firmly fastening as the knee plates pressed against her.

"Does it have to be so tight?" she complained, grimacing despite the amount of padding there was between her and the metal over her kneecaps.

Kyle ignored her, setting one thigh plate taut against her black body suit. He wrapped the buckles around the inside of her leg, making her squirm away from him a little. She felt a solid hand hold her in place as he finished fastening one of her legs with his free hand.

"Stand up and hold still," he ordered her, still clutching the other thigh piece.

"I don't know how much I appreciate being touched like that," Selena answered curtly, glaring at him.

"This is for your own safety," Sierra 096 replied indifferently, pulling her up forcefully and pressing the second plate to her thigh. It fastened to her just as tightly as the last one.

"Do you have to put your hands all over me for that?" she breathed vehemently.

"They're not all over you, ma'am," he said dismissively, reaching his hand behind her and clasping her butt with one half of the pelvic covering. She jumped a little, feeling the pressure from his palm resting on her backside.

"And what do you call that?!" she asked shrilly, nearly squealing.

"Assembling lower body armor." Another large hand pressed the front of the pelvic covering over her crotch, making her entire face turn scarlet.

"Get your hands off me!" Without warning Kyle clasped his hand over her mouth, making her leer wide-eyed and outraged at him, cheeks still flushed sanguine. His gold visor looked her dead on, mere inches from her face.

"Don't do that," he told her coldly, taking his hand away and reaching down her body to press the magnetic seals of her pelvic plates together, making small clicking noises.

"They'll hear you."

"Sorry, but I don't let anybody put their hands on me like that. I'm not that kind of-"

Captain S-096 put a hand on each of her shoulders and looked down at her.

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" he asked, slightly impatient.

"I um...um..." Selena's eyes drifted down, totally at a loss for words.

"No more of this. We need to hurry."

Without further hesitation, he piled the remaining suit parts into his arms, putting each down on the bench in a line. The next piece of armor he put on her was the torso, being split on each side with a rounded space for the wearer's arms to fit into. Pressing the front and back pieces against her simultaneously, Kyle clamped the two connecting sections together near her shoulder blades and the two above her waist. It barely afforded her any room for her to wiggle around inside. Next he slid the upper arms over her hands till they came to rest near her shoulders. He fastened them, making them fit comfortably before he took the shoulder plates and locked them into place, fitting them into perfect latches set into the light titanium. Then the forearms went on, an integrated elbow piece covering each end of them. Finally, he pulled over a black polymer glove over each of Selena's small hands, making sure the seams went into the forearm cuffs. The back of each glove had a similarly black piece of added metal covering it, but left the wrists able to bend and move unhindered.

Sierra 096 hefted the last piece of protection in his hands, the small, rounded helmet she had seen earlier.

"This armor is a dramatically downscaled variant of the MJOLNIR Mark Five Powered Assault Armor system, used by military police and standardized law enforcement personnel," Kyle explained calmly, covering the woman's face steadily with the helmet's visor.

Within just a few short moments, Selena felt almost exactly like the Spartan II before her- completely sealed inside armor and cut off from the rest of the world. Two fingers pressed gently against the side of her neck and the helmet made a low hissing noise. All the air that was inside the titanium casing seemed to drain, making her feel like she was suffocating.

"Wha-what the?-" she cut herself off, hearing her muffled voice come through the helmet, gasping a bit for breath.

"Relax ma'am," he said reassuringly, tracing a finger inside her helmet's jawline as he held her head up.

"The helmet is a stock Military Police system originally developed for ONI Section III, Beta-5 Division security units."

Transparent blue lines suddenly filled Selena's eyes, the feeling of being suffocated immediately subsiding as cool, filtered air rushed through mouth. A crisp, electronic sigh emanated through the MP helmet's audio transmitters. She stopped breathing for a moment, not knowing where the sound had come from. Then she sighed again, and heard the same noise.

"Um...was that me?" Selena blinked. It was her voice, but somehow a little different. Mechanical, staticy, but still clear enough to be recognizable.

"I uh...sorta sound like you now don't I?"

Kyle tilted his head to the side, seeming to her like he was a little amused.

"The rest of the armor is modeled after the original Up Armored Base Security, with UA/NxRA supplemental non-explosive reactive thigh armor and GUNGNIR knee plates. Variants for Spartan II users were originally upscaled by a factor of one hundred and seventeen percent," he said, looking over each part of her armor and adjusting it as needed.

"Your chest piece bears the city police department crest, as well as the owner's job title."

"It does?" the woman looked down to see the crest, small and emblazoned on her left collarbone. Across her chest in big, bright white letters read: **SWAT**. Bright blue readouts began flashing inside Selena's visor, making her wince and narrow her eyes.

"Your heads-up-display, or HUD, has the best combat software available for civilian level security. The motion tracker is in the lower left corner of your visor and displays any and all movement within a twenty-five meter radius."

"Um..." Selena looked through squinted eyes down at the corner of her HUD. Just as the Spartan said, there was a transparent blue, circular radar that gently pulsed a faint wave over its surface. Two yellow dots were on it; one in the center, and another that was so close it merged with it a bit.

"Are the yellow blips on here you and I?" she asked.

"Affirmative. Anyone with a friendly IFF picked up by the tracker will appear as yellow. Unidentified or hostile units will appear as red. Units above you will be displayed as triangular blips, anything below will be translucent."

He tapped on his wrist computer once, making something appear in the lower right corner of her vision.

"What did you do?"

"Sync my suit's data with yours," Kyle replied, taking his gaze away from his wrist and putting it back on her.

"You'll find our vital readouts in the bottom right. It should contain body temperature, pulse rate, respiration rate, and blood pressure."

"Yeah, alright, I got it...um, question," Selena said hesitantly, noticing the Spartan's unusual readings.

"Of course," he answered patiently.

"Why are most of your readings really low compared to mine?"

"Physical augmentation," Kyle stated flatly.

"Uh, what?" she asked further, blinking.

"It just means I'm not your average person, ma'am," he said as simply as he could.

"Oh...yeah, that does seem kind of obvious, I suppose. Stupid question, sorry," she apologized, cheeks flushing a little from embarrassment.

"You couldn't have known that," he dismissed, standing up in front of her and gesturing her to do the same.

"I guess. Just sorta assumed you were a normal guy in some special suit..." her eyes darted up at the Spartan, noticing that he was staring silently at her.

"I mean uh," she stood up quickly, stuttering over her words, "normal as in a really fit military guy that uh, no that's not right. What I mean is-"

"Your vitals are skyrocketing, Ms. Ackerson," Kyle cut her off.

"No they're not! I'm just really flustered and, and...FUCK why is it so hot in this damn thing!?" she yelled, trying to pull her helmet off.

"The suit will readjust to accommodate that," he told her reassuringly growing a little impatient.

"Can't you just take this thing off? I don't want you seeing my-" The Captain's hand wrapped around hers before she noticed, pulling her gently along outside of the changing room and down a darkened hall.

"Relax ma'am. It's for your own protection; switching to closed channel."

"Switching what?" Selena asked confusedly as her voice was suddenly cut off.

"What did you just do?" she could still hear herself talk, but it seemed to be sealed inside her MP helmet.

"I cut off exterior audio transmitters and put us on a secure comm channel" his voice responded cooly in her ears, low and electronic sounding.

"You can do that?"

"You mean _we_ can do that, ma'am," he corrected.

"Well, I guess it's good you got me the suit then..." she begrudgingly admitted.

"Indeed."

"So does that mean I can yell as much as I want now?" she continued slyly.

"In theory," Sierra 096's voice said simply.

"In theory? What do ya mean?"

"Most people don't appreciate having someone yell loudly in a receiver set so closely to their eardrums. You can whisper and the helmet will still pick you up just as if you were speaking in a normal tone close by."

"So is that why you talked so little before then?"

"...Partially," he replied hesitantly.

"Well, that makes se- wait, partially?" she asked suspiciously.

"Affirmative," Kyle answered tersely.

"What's the other reason then?"

"Reasons."

"What?"

"There is more than one reason, Ms. Ackerson," he clarified.

"Alright, then what are these 'reasons?'" she asked curtly.

"I cannot tell you at this time."

"Why not?"

"It's against protocol," he said, dodging the question.

"What protocol?" Selena asked, running out of patience.

"I cannot tell you at this time."

"You're just repeating yourself now..."

"I'm aware." The Captain led her through a large corridor, coming to a set of double doors.

"Will you ever give me a real answer?" she growled frustratedly.

Kyle ignored her, prying open the doors with his free hand and gently guiding her inside a pitch black room.

"Well, will you?" she pressed as she felt herself being plunged into the darkness.

Sierra 096 turned the room's lights on, most of them flickering and dimly illuminating everything. What they revealed though made Selena's eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.

Guns. There were guns. _Everywhere._ Her mouth fell open as she slowly looked around, taking in every inch of the room. Enormous weapon cabinets lined the walls, filled with dozens of standard issue rifles and shotguns, vertically shelved inside their interiors. Black and chrome pistols were neatly tucked into narrow wedged slots just beneath them. Their grips were angled upward, ready for anyone to reach out and grab at a moment's notice. In the center of the armory were gun racks, lined with several rows of submachine guns, tear gas launchers, and more pistols. Crates brimming with ammunition and grenades were stacked into every empty space between the cabinets that could fit them.

"I uh...uh...uhhhh..."

"Take a seat," Kyle's monotone voice spoke in her ears.

Her head darted back and forth looking for him. Realizing he was behind her still, she turned around shakily, finding him standing patiently next to an empty chair with his arms crossed. She walked toward him, visibly fidgeting in her armor.

"I um..." Selena stopped in front of the chair, taking one last second to look at the sheer mass of firearms gathered around them.

"...Alright," she whispered, sitting down next to the Spartan.

Uncrossing his arms and nodding at her, he stepped away and went across the room. Large black fingers pried the locked doors of a gun cabinet open, making the metal creak and squeal with protest as he swung them open. He pulled a drawer out underneath the main display, scooping up an arm-full of empty rifle magazines. Leaving the drawer open, he walked to the right of the assembled weapons and tugged down one of the crates stacked next to it with one hand. Selena watched him bring it all back to her, laying the crate of ammo down at her feet.

"Hold these."

"Hold wha-? OH SHIT!" Without any warning Kyle dumped a dozen empty, black magazines into her lap, making her scramble to catch them all before they fell. Four of them clattered to the floor despite her best efforts.

"The Hell is wrong with you?!" her voice yelled inside his Mk VI helmet.

Kneeling down in front of her next to the crate, he pulled the lid off and set it leaning against the side. Dozens upon dozens of tightly packed stripper clips were inside, holding ten long, slender, brass rifle rounds each. Grabbing one of the mags Selena had dropped, the Captain held out a clip and the mag next to it for her to see.

"This is an empty magazine for the MA5D Individual Combat Weapon System, or ICWS. It was developed shortly after the end of the Human-Covenant war in the mid-twenty sixth century by Misriah Armory on Mars. Each standard magazine can hold thirty-two M118 full metal jacket-armor piercing 7.62x51 millimeter rounds," he tapped his finger against the stripper clip as he spoke, drawing her attention to look at it.

"To load the magazine, press the bottom of the clip into the empty slot of at the top like this."

Kyle pressed the bottom of the cartridge into the black, boxlike mag just as he had said, pressing down on the top until all ten rounds slid inside. Each round made a gentle clicking sound as they were fed in. He held up the now stripped cartridge and partially filled mag for her to see.

"I want you to fill all the MA5 mags just like I showed you with this one until every one has thirty-two rounds. Understood?" the blue Spartan's visor looked at her calmly, waiting for the woman to answer.

"I think I can, but um...was all that information really necessary?" Selena asked, barely able to remember everything he had just told her.

"It's important to be familiar with the firearms you are equipt with," he stated, putting the black magazine in her right hand.

"For you maybe, but I've never used a gun in my life," she said, holding the magazine up to peer at through her visor.

"That may change soon..." he said solemnly, getting up to walk back to the drawn drawer.

"Wait, what?" Selena's hand fell to her lap as she stared after Sierra 096, a feeling of dread washing over her.

"Nothing. Put it out of your mind for now," Kyle dismissed calmly, scooping up the remaining rifle mags and bringing them back.

He sat on the floor in front of her, silently loading them with the round cartridges one by one. Once he had filled them, he withdrew the four empty extended magazines he was carrying for his own rifle as well, reloading them with four and a half clips of armor piercing rounds each. Setting them all on the ground, the Spartan reached over his back and rested his MA5 on his lap, partially sliding in one of the extended mags then tucking away the extras in his belt, thigh, and chest pouches. Hefting the rifle up beside his head, he slapped the magazine all the way into the stock with a loud click, pulling back the charging handle on the left side of the assembly. Selena's fingers slipped as she was unloading another stripper clip when she heard the second, even louder click.

Kyle sighed softly, putting his rifle back against his back, glancing at his ammo counter in the Mk VI's visor. With the four extended mags (including the one loaded into the rifle) and the six standard ones he had taken, he now had a total of three hundred and seventy-two MA5 rounds. And with Selena loading twelve more, she'd be carrying an additional three hundred and eighty-four. Over half a thousand rifle rounds between the two of them- hopefully it would be more than enough, but...

The blue Spartan stood up again, going back over to the crates and searching for rounds for his M6G. A small cardboard box contained what he was looking for, but not much of it. There were about six clips of 12.7x40mm (.50 caliber) M225 SAP-HE (Semi-Armor Piercing, High Explosive) rounds. The rest of it was filled with normal 12.7x40mm, exclusively. _It'll have to do I suppose._

Sierra 096 loaded his empty chrome Magnum magazines with the explosive ammunition, stuffing them into his smaller belt pouches, along with the remaining brass still left on the black strips of plastic. He carried the box over to Ms. Ackerson, who was just finishing her task when she looked up to see him.

"Isn't this enough?" she cried out in bewilderment, gesturing with her arms stretched out to her sides and palms opened towards the ceiling, magazines stacked on her lap.

"Not nearly," he replied coldly, sliding the rifle rounds away from her with his boot and replacing it with the box of 12.7x40mm.

"Are we fighting a war or something?" she asked, anguish rooted in her voice.

"Yes."

Kyle went to the gun racks in the center of the armory and grabbed a sidearm. It had a hard chrome finish and a black polymer pistol grip, as well as some sort of lense housing attached to the top of the barrel. Swapping it to his other hand, he reached underneath the rack and grabbed another small box, opening it to check its contents; it was filled with M6 magazines. He swung it out from under the stand and slid it across the floor in one motion, bumping it against the box of pistol ammo at Selena's feet.

She continued to watch him curiously as he went back to the same weapon cabinet he had been looting. Reaching inside the first drawer he produced a thick gray belt, bristling with pouches and having two short, two inch wide straps attached to it. They fell down and ended in one loop each, buckles unfastened and loose.

"Stand up," he told her, pacing back.

Ms. Ackerson put the MA5 magazines on the ground next to her seat and got up steadily. Kyle knelt down beside her to wrap the belt around her waist plate and buckle it tightly. binding the loops around her thighs just as snuggly. It looked like holsters could be attached to them, but the Spartan hadn't seen fit to include them. After he was done, he set the Magnum on the ground and hastily picked two clips out of one box and an empty chrome magazine from the other. The sound of rounds being raked against metal and plastic followed as the Spartan's hands glided through the motion effortlessly, loading a full ten round load into the slot first then two rounds off the second cartridge to fill it completely. Partially unfilled it fell back into its box, being discarded by the Captain's hand in order to grab the sidearm off the ground. With his left hand he slid the magazine into place with the woman watching. His palm pulled back the slide, moving the back half of the pistol backwards and revealing the ejection port for the emptied casings discharged by the weapon.

"This is an M6B Magnum sidearm, used exclusively by civilian and government sector security forces, also developed by Misriah Armory and in use for about two hundred years." Kyle stood up and walked behind Selena, taking her right hand and wrapping her slender, gauntleted fingers around the grip.

"Um...I don't know if this...if this is..." she stared at the Magnum trepidatiously, blinking.

"The M6 series is recoil operated and magazine fed, meaning each shot will cause the weapon to recoil and chamber a new round automatically from the magazine without having to be cocked again. Before the first round can be fired however, a round must be chambered. This is done by inserting a loaded magazine into the grip of the weapon, and then by pulling the slide back completely and letting it slingshot forward- which I have just demonstrated for you." He turned her wrist towards her to angle the pistol in front of her silver visor horizontally, pressing her finger against a small button on the pistol grip.

"To reload, the empty magazine must be removed with the magazine release button located on the grip and inserting a fresh one."

Kyle reached around Selena's body and held his other hand under the pistol, pressing her thumb to the release and making the magazine slide out and drop into his waiting palm. She could feel her body temperature rising as she felt his chest plate against her back, making her blush a little.

"Once the fresh mag is inserted, the slide is allowed to return to its normal position by the operator- but since there's already a round chambered, it won't move this time," the Spartan's hand took Selena's left and put the magazine in it, gently closing her fingers around it and moving it up to push the rounds back into the M6B.

"There is no need to re-cock the weapon however. It is only necessary when chambering the first round when bringing the weapon out of "safe" mode - safety on, uncocked, and unloaded."

His hand moved hers one more time up towards a small lever set against the side of the Magnum's chrome casing. Her thumb press down against it, pointing the end of it away from the small, etched letters that read _Semi-Auto_ to _Safe_. She felt a silent click reverberate inside the weapon.

"Keep all your weapons on safe at all times when not in use, Ms. Ackerson. Always."

Selena turned her head to the left a bit to see the Captain's head hovering over her shoulder as he taught her. Despite the titanium and reflective coating separating both their faces, she couldn't help but feel like her cheeks were on fire. She never thought she'd be so thankful for the helmet until this moment. Her hands were guided up by his, raising the pistol to eye level.

"The M6B has a KFA-2 x2 smart scope mounted to the top of the barrel," he said as something flashed in the top right corner of her HUD.

"It syncs with your helmet's systems and provides a two-times magnification without actually having to put your eye to the Magnum's integrated sights. However it's always a good habit to keep your weapon steady and at eye level for optimum accuracy."

A small, transparent blue icon of the M6B appeared inside the MP helmet's visor, displaying an ammo counter that read _12/0_ and tiny icons of the bullets themselves beneath the picture and counter. They were spread into two neat rows of six. Then she noticed a circular reticle in her display with four crosshairs pointing towards the center.

"The targeting reticle in your HUD will assist you in landing precision shots, even when you are not actively using the KFA-"

"You're a really good teacher..." Selena whispered, making Kyle stop.

His thoughts trailed off to another teacher who had taught these very things to a young Spartan recruit, still barely grasping the basic understanding of his future role. _I wonder what happened to my Sergeant..._

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have blurted that out," she quickly added, taking Kyle's silence as a sign of annoyance or awkwardness.

"Don't apologize." She felt her arms being drawn apart, her right hand being put against her thigh. The pistol it held snapped to it tightly.

"Your thigh and back plates have powerful magnetic seals that'll hold your firearms in place when not in use," he said, letting go of her arms and walking away from her back to the gun rack.

"Load yourself six magazines of pistol ammunition and slot them into your belt ma'am," Kyle told her without looking back at her, plucking three M7 SMGs from it.

She sighed loudly in his helmet, sitting back down to do as she had been instructed.

"Do I really need that much?"

"If we could, I'd tell you to load all the mags," he answered.

"You really like guns don't you?"

"They're a necessary tool, ma'am."

"You sure do know a lot about them though," she commented as she began filling her second mag.

"That's probably the most you've ever talked about anything since we've known each other."

"I know."

She stopped midway through stripping a clip, surprised. The MP helmet raised to gaze at him from across the room as he stole the contents of a crate marked with: _5x23mm M443 Caseless Full Metal Jacket/.197 caliber rounds_. He noisily loaded all three SMGs with pre-loaded magazines from the container, shoving them into the left side of each small black weapon and effortlessly sliding back the charging handles set into the right of the housings.

"Did you just agree with me?" a shocked sounding voice asked in his ear.

"Possibly."

Rifling through another cabinet, he found another ammunition belt equipped with long straps that looped over a wearer's shoulders. Kyle buckled it above his armor's own belt and crossed the straps over his chest in an X shape, positioning them so that they rubbed against the inside of his chest pouches but did not run over top them. Fastening two SMGs to either side of the belt so that they hung loosely down, he grabbed twelve magazines of the caseless ammunition, hurriedly tucking them into the new set of pouches he had.

Glancing at the time near the top of his HUD, Sierra 096 frowned. _1855 hours_. _We're losing time, fast._ Turning over the third SMG in his right hand, he looked back at Selena who had gone back to loading herself down with sidearm ammo. With a great commotion he punched open another cabinet and tore the drawers out, sifting through their contents and knocking parts and pieces to guns around without any care. When the armored woman turned her silver visor up from her hands she saw the Spartan screwing on a long, tubular attachment to the muzzle of the third M7. His hand flew away from it once he was done and dove back down, bringing up a thin, flat sight and a long gray, three point sling. The sling was looped through small openings attached to the left of the muzzle and underneath the stock, the sight clamped to the top of the weapon easily. As he swiveled to pace back to her with the weapon, he stretched his arm into the ammunition box and brought out four rectangular mags.

"For you," he said, offering the SMG's pistol grip in his right hand for her to reach out and take and the ammo in his left.

"I think the little gun you gave me is enough, Captain," she answered, waving away the submachine gun nervously.

"Not quite," he persisted, firmly placing the grip in her right hand and the extra rounds in her lap.

"No really, I don't really think I'll be shooting anything, tha-"

"This is an M7 Caseless Submachine Gun, equipped with a short range, red reflex sight,

SS/M 49 sound suppressor, and muzzle flash suppressor. Sixty round mag, effective range of fifty meters, weighs approximately 2.9 pounds."

An enormous hand clasped over hers, making her fingers wrap tightly over the grip. The upper right corner of her visor flashed again, minimizing the pistol icon and putting it above the now new and larger SMG. Beside it read _60/240_ , with three long rows of twenty small rounds each running below it. Another hand grabbed her left, putting it under the barrel housing onto a small, protruding piece of titanium, making her grab it and snap it down in a bent angle.

"It links to your HUD just as the M6B does," he went on, taking his hands away from hers and extending the buttstock so that it rested inside her shoulder, lengthening the weapon and making it a little over two feet long.

"Fire in quick bursts and only go into full auto when hostiles are within fifteen or fewer meters of you." The Spartan took the weapon away, wreathing the sling over her head so it crossed down from her left collarbone and over her chest diagonally. The gun hung loosely near her right hip.

"To reload, eject the magazine with the release located between the red dots on the left side of the receiver," Kyle pointed to the side of the weapon, drawing her attention to the dots she hadn't noticed before, "and the handle can be pulled back and locked. Or it can be fully cycled after a fresh magazine has been inserted. If it is first pulled back and locked, then it must be pushed forward in order to chamber a new round. There is no ejection port due to the nature of the rounds fired."

"Um...the nature of the rounds?" Selena asked.

"The M7 uses caseless rounds to eliminate friction present in other weapons from round casings, which causes weapon jamming," he explained, taking the magazines from her lap and inserting them into the remaining pouches on her belt as best as he could fit them.

"That's pretty smart..." she commented as he finished filling her belt while she sat.

"Indeed," he agreed, stepping back from her, "we need five more things now."

Sierra 096 went back to the amassed weapons and ammo, grabbing a shotgun from within the busted open doors of a cabinet and looked it over.

"This'll do very nicely..."

It was an M90 Close Assault Weapon System, an old model that had fallen out of use in most of the military branches. The shotgun could hold up to twelve shells and had an effective range of one hundred meters, and each shell blasted out fifteen pellets each, giving it incredible stopping power. Why it was in a police department, Kyle could only guess. But the most likely reason was that it had been passed on by the UNSC to UEG officials; better to have friendly personnel make use of old Human-Covenant war weapons and technology, rather than angsty, unpredictable extremists.

Digging through the drawers beneath where he had taken the so called " _Universal Translator_ ," he withdrew another three point sling and wasted no time in connecting both ends to the M90's under barrel grip and stock. He swung it over his left shoulder for the time being, grabbing an MA5D rifle and stripping off the center block of the rounded, over barrel housing. Kyle filled the missing spot with a holographic sight, triangular in shape to match the MA5's structure but also propped above the ammo counter high enough to be used by someone without a smart-linked targeting system.

With the additional rifle jammed beneath his left armpit he went about looking for shell bandoliers and a backpack. He found both in a sparsely filled cupboard, relatively new and gray just like everything else he had come across. Three bandoliers were slung over his right shoulder, running diagonally between his chest pouches and over top the straps connected to his dangling SMGs, ending at his left hip. They stretched against the MJOLNIR armor tightly, giving them no room to move once they had been donned. Finally, he reached between two of the cabinets to grab a box of fresh, unopened frag grenades labeled: **CAUTION- HIGH EXPLOSIVES**.He put it against his thigh and held it in place as he walked.

"Are you done no- OOF!"

The backpack had landed right in her face, knocking her SMG around against her body.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" she asked irritably, shoving the thing off her visor.

"Put the MA5 mags you loaded into it."

Captain 096 sat the grenade box down next to her right leg, bending over and lifting the lid off it. Inside were sixteen frags, evenly spaced inside and held in place like eggs by rounded pits. Selena completely dropped the bag, mouth ajar.

"Okay, it's official, you're absolutely crazy..."

"Take this and load it," he put the rifle against her chest, ignoring her, "while I go and get some shells. Then put four grenades into the bag and four on the back of your belt."

"Yo-you...you want me to put these...in the fucking bag!? _Are you nuts!?_ They might explode!"

"Load them into the smaller sections inside the bag and fill the largest compartment with the rounds," he explained calmly as she continued to scream in his ears.

"But what if they go off!? And what about this thing!? I don't know how to load-"

"Shhh..."

She felt a large hand cover part of her visor and move her head up. The Spartan gazed down on her quietly, resting two very small, red cardboard boxes of Soelkraft 8 Gauge shells in her lap. Taking the rifle from her and turning it over in his hands, he slid one of her mags into the stock of the bullpup rifle and slapped the bottom once. It made a quick, low click. His fingers curled over the charging handling, drawing it back and letting go, making it slingshot forward.

"This is for just in case," he whispered to her, gently putting it back in her shaking hands.

"Same as the M7, quick controlled bursts for mid to long range, full auto for anything up close."

Kyle gestured for her to stow it over her shoulder quietly, instructing her as he did. Breathing heavily she did as he demonstrated, leaning forward to give herself room to slide the MA5D upside down against her back. It snapped into place without any effort on her part, the enclosed pistol grip and stock jutting out over her right shoulder.

"I-I...I um...Too much, this is...too much..." she stammered, staring at the box of explosives fearfully.

"Just when I thought I had gotten used to things..."

"You never have to get used to this," Sierra 096's voice said softly in her helmet. The tone of it was enough to make her stop shaking and turn her eyes to look at his visor.

"In two hours you'll never have to see this place again."

He knelt down in front of her, picking two grenades up with each hand and steadily handing them to her.

"Two on the back of your belt and two in the front, ma'am," he noticed her still staring at them, silver visor blank and completely silent.

"They will only detonate if you squeeze the button near the top hard enough," the Captain reassured her, tapping a small button on the handle of one of the grenades with his thumb.

"You-you promise?" Selena asked timidly.

"Absolutely," he said without hesitation. She breathed deeply, extending her hands to take the offering of lethal explosives.

"I can't believe I'm doing this right now."

Gingerly she stuck each grenade on her belt, handling them as if they were eggs and could break with even the tiniest amount of pressure. When she was finished she looked back at Kyle, who nodded at her, satisfied.

"So, uh...four more in the bag, right?"

"Affirmative."

"You can just say yes, big guy," she said, trying to laugh a little despite herself.

"I'll try to remember that, ma'am."

The Captain took four M9 grenades for himself, hooking two against either side of his fanny pack and sat down, spreading his legs out against the floor. He unslung the M90 from his left shoulder and pulled the shell boxes off Selena's lap, ripping them open and sliding one shell into the top of the weapon at a time. His fingers moved quickly, the shotgun making tiny clicking noises every few seconds as the red shells were pushed inside.

"That sounded awfully friendly of you," Selena commented, smiling a bit.

"Did it?" he asked, making a loud pumping sound as he finished loading his fifth firearm.

"My apologies then ma'am."

Kyle draped the sling over his head underneath his right arm, making the shotgun lay across his chest. It clanged against one of the SMGs when he started sliding more shells into his bandoliers.

"Why would you apologize?" she halted her progress of loading the backpack with grenades, tilting her head at him like he had always done to her.

He looked back at her, the irony dawning on him.

"I'm not entirely certain," he finally admitted.

"Well, don't apologize big guy. And, well I um..." her eyes darted from him to the floor a few times, searching for the right words.

"When this is all over, could I...maybe take you out somewhere?" she started twiddling her thumbs nervously, bashfully turning her head away despite her face being hidden by the titanium.

"You want to 'take me out?'" Kyle asked, very perplexed.

"Do you mean you want to assassinate me at a specified place?"

"WHAT?! No!" she yelled, completely flustered.

"I mean go out and have fun! You know, a date! Oh, shi-" Selena tried to cover her mouth, but all her fingers found was the mouthpiece to the Beta-5 MP helmet, making her feel even more embarrassed.

"A date?" he asked, glancing down at his chest to load the last shell into his third bandolier, making it appear like he was wearing a thick, red sash.

"I don't follow ma'am."

"You know, when two people go out and, um...dammit why is this so hard..."

"'Date, noun- the day of the month or year as specified by a number, or a social or romantic appointment or engagement.'"

"Wait, you knew?" she asked, still flustered and blushing.

"I used my suit's database to find a definition. I knew the first, not the second," Sierra 096 answered, giving her his full attention.

"I'm still unclear however."

"Well, it's the second definition..." Selena looked down at her feet, trying not to tremble.

"That still doesn't tell me much," he said, waiting with unmistakable curiosity.

"So...does that mean you've never been on one then?" she asked skittishly.

"Correct ma'am."

"Are you serious?..."

"Yes," Kyle tilted his head a little, watching her with growing intrigue.

"I just um...want to get to know you because I um...ummmmm..."

"Are you saying you want to be friends Ms. Ackerson?"

"We-well I just appreciate everything you've done for me and uh-" she stammered and tripped over her words, blood running hot in her cheeks, "no one's ever given me surgery just because they wanted to help me, and no one's ever carried me around protecting me all the time and not expect anything in return, and-"

"Ma'am," he interrupted her, seemingly staring into her eyes from down on his spot on the floor, deep in thought.

Selena shook like a leaf in her chair as he thought of how strange the idea was. She had no idea who he really was, and would most likely never know. But here she was, expressing a desire to befriend him, her long lost childhood friend. This "date" word though sounded like she eventually hoped for more. And behind his emotionless visor of gold he knew that no matter what happened, he'd never see her again after this was all said and done. At least, not for a very long time. What could he say to her? _What can I say?_

"I um...what do you say?" she asked. After several long moments of uncomfortable silence, she finally got her answer.

"Yes."

"I understand, since we got off on the wrong foot and- wait what?"

"Yes," he repeated calmly.

"'Yes?...'" she mimicked, unsure she heard right.

"That's what I said, ma'am," Sierra 096 answered, slowly standing up before her.

"Wow, I um...I'm glad to hear that then," she said, smiling widely and getting up with him, holding the heavy bag up with her.

"Wait," she frowned, "are you going to wear that when we go out?" she pointed at his blood stained, scarred Navy blue and silvery armor.

"Or do you have a uniform you can wear or something?"

"This _is_ my uniform," he replied flatly.

"What? You can't be serious..."

"I'm not."

"Huh?" Selena asked incredulously.

"I'm screwing with you, miss."

"You have a sense of humor now?" she put her hands on her hips.

"Possibly," he answered slyly, taking her by the hand and leading her out of the armory.

"Come on, we need to move."

"Hey, don't kill the mood! We were just starting to become friends-"

"We're already friends," he said, passing through the pitch black interior and heading for the door they had entered the building over half an hour ago.

"We are?" she blinked, trying to keep pace with the Spartan as best she could. The armor and weapons weighing down on her made it far more difficult than she had anticipated, especially with her still feeling weak from the surgery.

"I don't see why not." Kyle said, stopping a few feet in front of the hall to look at her.

"How're you feeling?"

"Um...you mean my stomach, right?"

"Yes.

"It kind of hurts but, I can li-"

Kyle reached into one of his belt pouches and produced a small bottle of pain pills he had taken from the hospital.

"Can you swallow these without water?"

"I...I guess," she replied, taking the bottle.

"Take three of them," he instructed, putting his hands on either side of her helmet and pressing the button inside its jawline. It hissed and slid off her head, revealing the beautiful face beneath it.

"Thanks..." she said, unscrewing the cap and carefully pouring three small, white rounded tablets in her palm. The woman tilted her head back a bit and pressed her hand to her lower lip, letting them fall into her mouth. Closing her mouth, she forcibly swallowed, making a pained expression.

"Okay, I'm done," Selena winced, closing the pill bottle and handing it back to him.

His fingers wrapped around it, briefly touching her's as he replaced the small container in his belt. The MP helmet slid gently back over her head, making a small shiver run through her spine as she felt his fingertips brush against her cheeks. Hissing, the titanium casing plunged her back into a completely isolated, climate controlled environment.

"Good, let's go."

He grabbed her hand again, leading her through the door and back out into the ominous, foreboding green fog that blanketed the city.

 _24 June, 2616_

 _1925 hours_

Kyle led his old friend towards the edge of Adros, both lugging enough weapons and ammunition to take on several platoons of soldiers. It had only been about twenty minutes since they had left the police station, treading silently down the street. The Spartan had decided against carrying her over his shoulder again, letting her have the opportunity to move for a short time. Plus the amount of equipment she was toting would weigh down on her too much.

The two of them passed a small convenience store with four deserted cars and one truck in front of it, their doors flung wide open. Three of the cars had bloody smears strewn across them like a terribly done paint job, windshields cracked and door windows shattered.

"It's so...empty. Quiet..." Selena breathed mournfully, slowing her pace to look at the abandoned vehicles and store.

"I know everywhere here is like this now but, I don't think I'll ever get used to it," she added, sighing deeply. Turning her gaze back to Kyle, she asked:

"Do you think anyone would be able to live here again?"

"Yes," he said almost immediately, waving his hand to signal her to walk faster.

"Keep both hands on your weapon and have it at the ready at all times," he reminded her, seeing her SMG dangling freely by its sling against her chest.

Fumbling the weapon in her gauntleted hands nervously, she gingerly wrapped her skinny fingers around its grips. Mirroring the Spartan and the way he held his rifle, she brought it up against the inside of her shoulder.

"Sorry," she said, a little embarrassed.

"When do you think people will be able to come back to this city?" her soft voice carried on in his helmet. There was a brief moment of silent thought, then he answered:

"A decade. Maybe two."

"That long?" the blonde woman asked, surprised.

"The stain of the infestation will have to be purged completely and absolutely," Kyle explained calmly to her, "nuclear fire may be necessary as well."

"So they're going to just level this place?" Selena frowned, disheartened by the prospect.

"It is unfortunate, but for the safety of all who live on this planet, there is no other option."

"I really have lost everything then..." she whispered, bowing her head and thinking of her home as she followed Kyle.

"Not yet," his firm voice said solemnly from her Beta-5's receivers.

The pair left the store behind, marching onward and coming upon a multi-level parking garage, another store directly across the street from it: a super market, expansive and taking up roughly one hundred and sixty thousand square feet. It stood apart from the other buildings, but lacked its own parking lot because of its location in the city. The multi-level garage would have been used to remedy the situation; it took up roughly a quarter of the same area as the market, as well as having five discernible levels of elevation. The top two levels appeared to have caved in on themselves however, crushing whatever and whoever may have been unfortunate enough to be caught up there.

"Yeah...yeah, I guess you're right. I'm still alive, and mom and dad are still out there on Earth..."

"As are your other friends and family strewn amongst the stars of the Orion Arm."

Selena blinked, taking a minute to respond.

"You really have changed lately."

Hurriedly she jogged up to his right side to glance up into his Mk VI's visor, trying her best to match his steady pace. The Captain kept his view fixed on the path ahead of him though, not even returning the look she gave him.

"I was not aware of any change ma'am."

"You're talking to me more, being polite and kind, going against what your bosses told you to do just to help me-"

"And?" he asked a little pointedly.

"Well uh...I'm just sorry," she said, trying to find the right words.

"'Sorry?'"

"Yeah, it's just that, I...I-I remember the um...when you-"

Selena was cut off by Kyle raising his rifle up abruptly, the faint click of the safety switch being pressed sounding as loud as a pen dropping in an empty room in the abandoned city-scape. He hunched down several inches, hugging the side of the multi-level garage's exterior. Hurriedly she got behind him, nervously raising her SMG up in line with her right shoulder. Huddling down next to him, she appeared even smaller compared to him than usual, even with the armor.

"What is it?" she whispered nervously through their shared closed channel.

"Movement," he answered calmly, "from inside the structure, directly across from us."

"How can you see anything in there?" she asked, squinting through her visor at the super market's wide, glass polymer sliding doors.

"It's dark as Hell in there."

"I didn't- movement on the motion tracker," he explained, still aiming his rifle at the doors.

"Oh...yeah...that thing..." she muttered, very embarrassed.

"I have point, you have rear-guard."

Sierra-096 quietly began to stand to his full height, tilting his head to lean his helmet's right cheek against his assault rifle, taking one step forward.

"Um...does that mean stay behind you?" Selena asked tentatively, feeling the weight of her armor and weapons pressing down on her more-so than before.

"And watch for hostiles behind us, yes."

Briefly he took his head from his rifle and looked over his left shoulder, nodding it for her to follow. The woman rose and shakily did as he had asked, turning her helmeted head to and fro at both directions of the road as they crossed, pivoting on her feet to check behind them occasionally.

"Eyes on your tracker ma'am," he reminded her, still taking a deliberate, quiet pace to get to the market.

"Um...whi-which one was that again?"

"Circular radar, bottom left."

"Oh, right, thanks...Um, there's nothing so far on mine except for you and me..."

"Good, keep glancing at it," he instructed her, finally stopping in front of the glass sliding doors of the structure. They were covered in thin spiderweb cracks, a few holes broken through them with glass shards strewn about the inside from the impact. Blood, blackened and old caked the inside of the jagged holes.

"You know, it doesn't know we're here, maybe we could just leave and pretend we never saw it..." Selena suggested, taking a step back towards the way they had came.

"They all know we're here."

"Wait, what?" she hissed incredulously in his ear.

"Flood combat forms have been following us for approximately ten minutes."

" _Are you fucking serious right now!?_ " she shrieked as loudly as she could, her knees actually starting to shake from fear.

"How do you know?! And why haven't you told me?!"

"Motion tracker," he stated once again, not saying anything else past that.

Taking his left hand from beneath his rifle, he wedged his fingers in between the two broken sliding doors and pushed the one to his left away from its counterpart. It made one small hissing noise and easily parted for the Spartan, allowing him to step halfway inside and press his back against the edge of the door to keep it open for his companion. Replacing his left hand in its customary position underneath the barrel of his MA5, Kyle directed his view towards Selena, motioning with a quick head nod for her to step inside.

"Fall out, ma'am."

"Are you crazy, I'm not going in there! Who knows how many could be in-"

"We'll eliminate them all and move on," Kyle said coldly, taking his eyes off her to gaze into the darkness of the supermarket's lightless interior.

"Now fall out."

"We're friends, but I'm still not a soldier you can order around Captain!" she crossed her arms and stared at him from the middle of the street, defiantly and afraid.

"I wish you were."

"What the Hell-?"

"Get in here now or we'll both die."

"Hell. NO."

"So be it," he muttered.

Stepping away from the door and letting it pathetically slide back into place, he briskly closed the gap between them and grabbed her upper left arm. Jerking her forcefully he pushed her inside the empty store before the door could slide completely into its space with the right door. She tried to break away and run the whole time, but the Spartan's iron grip was not something that could be resisted. Sputtering curses and insults the whole time, she landed on the dirty floor on her hands and knees, her SMG bouncing against her chest plate loudly.

"You forceful son of a bitch, can't you ever just-?" cutting herself off, she steadily studied her surroundings, finding she could see nothing but the Spartan standing outside the glass doors and the dim, pale green light that shined through behind him. It was enough to make her convulse in terror all over again.

"It's like something out of a horror movie..." she whispered fearfully.

Selena closed her eyes and sat very still, shaking uncontrollably on her spot on the floor while the Captain pushed his way back into the darkness with her, kneeling down before her.

"Why do you have to do this shit to me, I thought friends were supposed to care about each other..."

Kyle said nothing, instead laying his rifle on the ground to the right of him and lifting his left arm up to chest level, tapping on his small, orange wrist computer.

"What, you're not going to say anything now?"

No answer.

"So what happened back in the station was nothing then?"

Just out of her view inside her visor, the tiniest text with the words _"Resynchronizing with MJOLNIR Mk V-B Powered Assault Armor systems..._ " flashed in the very bottom of her HUD in translucent blue letters.

"Some friend you are then! So when it comes to guns and armor you can talk forever, but when someone begs you to not throw them into a dark ass building filled with scary, ugly corpse monsters you-!"

 _Resynchronization complete._

Without warning Selena's entire field of vision was plunged into several shades of bright, glowing green, bathing the darkness with the artificial light and color of night-vision optics. She jumped back and yelped, landing ungracefully on her hindquarters and making a loud _Oomph!_ sound as she did.

"Can you see, ma'am?" Sierra-096 asked quietly, holding his right hand out in front of her to test her optics' effectiveness.

"Um...yeah...Hey," Selena reached forward with her right hand to place it on his, lowering it slowly. Despite the armor keeping them both from actually touching each other, she couldn't help but shiver a little.

"I was going to apologize about how I've treated you and, then I just blew up at you again and I..." she tilted her head down, unable to meet his gaze, even in the dark, "I wish I could control my outbursts, I do, but I get so carried away and-"

" _Shhh..._ " Kyle pushed her hand off his, placing it over her Beta-5's mouthpiece. They waited several moments in silence, the Spartan slowly moving his head from side to side on the alert, then she whispered:

"I thought no one could hear us except for each other..."

"They can't," he confirmed, "but we still need to be able to hear noises from outside our closed channel."

"I really can be so stupid..." she berated herself.

"Shh," he said again, "no. This isn't the time or place for that."

Gently he wrapped his fingers around each of her upper arms and steadily pulled her up on her feet with him. She nearly fell into him from the motion, despite how slowly he had done it to prevent it. Two large hands rested on her shoulders, keeping her rooted to her spot firmly.

"Easy there," his voice said calmly in her ear as he took a hand off her and grabbed her right hand, pressing it against the grip of her M7 once again.

"Weapons at the ready ma'am. Expect multiple hostiles."

Briefly he knelt before her, scooping his rifle off the ground and resting it across his chest. It clanged lightly against the shotgun strapped there, as well as making his two SMGs rattle against his sides.

"But...I'm not sure I can shoot anything..." she stared nervously at him..

"When the time comes, you will. Self preservation will overcome any fear you have of firearms." He turned away from her, training his rifle downrange through the darkness.

"Follow me and watch your six."

Hesitantly doing as she was told, Selena raised her SMG back up and drank in her surroundings. Illuminated by the unsettling green glow she saw the mangled, battered remains of dozens of aisles, their contents scattered across a blood soaked floor. Only mere patches of pristine white tile managed to shine through the crimson stains. Directly before them automated check-out stations spread from one side of the building to another in a single long, uninterrupted line. At least, they would have been, had more than a dozen not been completely pulverized. From the way they looked, it seemed like something had destroyed them with brute force. It was a little difficult for her to tell since everything was a shade of green. Above them were dozens upon dozens of rows of long, slender light bulbs, each set inside the ceiling beneath a frosted glass panel.

"Do you have um...this green glow in your helmet too?" she asked as she began to follow him, tearing herself away from staring at the utter bedlam around them.

"No ma'am," he answered, scanning their surroundings from side to side with his rifle, crouch walking very cautiously.

"How can you see at all then?"

"I have very, very good eyes," Kyle said simply.

"Was that something they did to you too? Not that I really expect you to answer, but..."

"Affirmative."

"Well..." she stopped for a moment, a little stunned, "I didn't see that coming...Never thought you'd be so forthcoming with me and my questions."

"I can stop answering altogether if you'd prefer ma'am."

"What? No! No, of course not, I'm just-"

"Movement, three hundred-twenty degrees to the north-west, forty meters from our position," he quickly interjected, dropping to one knee and training his rifle at the direction he had stated.

Selena froze to stare at where he was aiming; the clothing department, its space haphazardly covered with shirt racks and several overturned shelves, stretching to at least twelve feet long and seven feet high at the most. Amongst the soiled, grime covered clothes something rustled faintly.

"Stay here, keep weapons trained on the target," Sierra 096 said coldly, making his way deliberately towards the red blip Selena now noticed on her tracker.

As he delved into the knotted mess of bargain priced apparel, Kyle swung his rifle over his shoulder and against his back, opting to draw his shoulder knife instead. It made a quiet sliding sound, accompanied by the small click of his rifle sticking to his back. With his right hand stretched out before him, fingers curled open and ready to grab whatever was hiding in the dark, the blue Spartan turned his knife over in his left hand, pointing the blade out towards the side. Very carefully he picked his way through, keeping his bulky armor from getting caught in the tangled jungle of fabrics and steel display racks, listening intently for any out of place noise. Something cut the silence like a knife; it sounded like something muttering, gasping for breath.

Kyle glanced down at his tracker again; the red dot was right next to him now. Whatever it was, it couldn't keep still long enough to evade his suit detecting it. To his right, a hanger fell from its display and onto the floor, clattering loudly in the absolute quiet. Then, the clear sound of a male voice whispering to itself:

"Oh shit, I knew I shouldn't have fuckin' ran out to the store. I told them it was a bad idea to go out for food right now, but they wouldn't listen to me. Now those fuckin' things are lookin' for me, I know it. Shit keeps fallin' around me, makin' more-"

Without warning an enormous, gauntleted hand plunged deep inside a large, circular clothes display past the thicket of shirts and gripped the person hiding inside by the neck with an overwhelmingly strong hold. Kyle wrenched him from his hiding spot and stood to his full height, holding the man up off the ground at his eye level and bringing his knife to hover next to the man's face.

Getting a good look at him, the Spartan could see the man was in his early thirties at most, a thick brown beard covering most of his face and round, chubby features defining his body and face shape. Atop his head was shortly cropped hair, unkempt and messy as if he had just gotten out of bed. His chocolate brown eyes were bloodshot with dark circles beneath them, skin pale and sickly in appearance. He wore a torn red flannel T-shirt covered with a horizontal black striped pattern and had on a pair of grimey tan khaki pants with ragged brown dress shoes.

"HOLY SHIT!" the man yelled, eyes wide and fear-filled and feet swinging around beneath him wildly in an attempt to run. He gripped the Spartan's arm tightly, trying to pull him off his throat.

"Identify yourself," Kyle commanded coldly, pressing the flat of the blade against the man's cheek.

"Don't kill me man, please! I just wanted to find some food! You gotta believe me!"

"Identification. _Now_ ," Kyle persisted, pressing the knife closer against his cheek.

"J-Jason! My name's Ja-Jason Jones, my friends call me J-JJ! Now please, let me go!"

"Miss Ackerson," Kyle spoke through the private comm channel, "regroup on my position. Weapons on safe."

" _Yeah um, sure thing Captain_ ," her voice answered, tinged with uncertainty.

As JJ continued to struggle to wriggle free of Sierra 096's unyielding grasp, the Spartan took his knife away from his cheek and slid it absent-mindedly back into its sheath.

"Sierra zero-niner-six, Spartan II, Captain of the United Nations Space Command; I'm here to rescue you sir," Kyle said, much more friendly and calm this time as he steadily put the chubby man down on his feet, releasing his throat.

"Spartan? Really?" Jason asked, rubbing the side of his neck with one hand.

"You always greet people like that?"

"I don't make a habit of it, no," he answered him, glancing around at his HUD as he spoke. Selena had finally made her way to his position after stumbling through several of the steel displays, making several short clinking sounds when the metal bumped into her armor.

"Well uh, buddy, it's really fuckin' dark in here and I can't see you all that well so, uh-"

Bright spotlamps shined from either side of Kyle's Mk VI helmet, casting a brilliant light over Jason's face and revealing everything around them in clear detail. Shirts of all makes and colors dominated the foreground behind JJ. Short retail racks rested in a zigzag pattern off to their right, filled with even more shirts. To the left stood a large, battered wooden shelf, its space sectioned off into four levels. To Kyle's growing dismay, it was filled with more unevenly stacked merchandise. _Far too much in this place_ he thought to himself.

"Jesus man, turn off the high beams!" Jason raised his hands to block out the light from his eyes, ducking his head down.

To his left, Selena recoiled as well, the light being amplified by her night vision and making it seem like she was staring into the sun itself. Lifting his arm up, he pressed his computer's screen several times to revert her vision to normal. Selena sighed in his ear after a few moments, relieved.

"Can't you show me how to work that?" she asked as she shook her head, trying to blink away the stars still fading from her eyes.

"I could, yes."

"Then why haven't you taught me?"

"I didn't want to overwhelm you with too much information."

"Well...that's really thoughtful of you, Captain," she admitted, smirking a little.

"Acknowledged," Kyle responded to the compliment flatly.

"Hey, blue guy," JJ's voice interrupted, "are you two just gonna stand there like two bumps on a log, or are you gonna get rid of the spotlight?!"

"What does he me- ohhhhhh, he can't hear us talking..." Selena realized.

"Affirmative ma'am," Sierra 096 confirmed, dimming his spotlamps by a quarter of their illuminating power. JJ sighed in response, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

"Thank fuck," he snorted, blinking several times as his eyes adjusted to look the Spartan over.

"Well shit...you're a big motherfucker..." he blurted out, studying him from top to bottom.

"Affirmative," Kyle's voice responded, low and electronic through his helmet's transmitter.

"So uh...Spartan, here to save me, right?"

"You and any other survivors remaining in this city, yes," he nodded in solemn response.

"This is great then! Oh shit man, you have no idea the fuck-shittery we've had to go through to make it this long. I swear, I thought I was-"

"'We?'" the Captain stopped him, suddenly incredibly intrigued.

"Yeah..." Jason said, hesitantly, "there are six of us: me, Sherry, Tania, Da-"

"Lead us to them," he ordered, gesturing for him to take point.

"And risk getting caught by those freaky tentacle monsters out there?" JJ asked incredulously, crossing his arms and scowling.

"Hell no big man. Those guys are as good as dead from where I stand."

"How could you be so selfish!?" Selena yelled out, taking her hands off her SMG to point at him accusingly.

"Um...you got something to say stranger?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow.

"Dammit, he can't hear me still," she growled angrily, clenching her fists.

"How do you change the voice stuff like you do?"

"It is changed," Kyle replied inside her MP helmet.

"No it's not, he can't hear me still!" she turned on him, stretching her arm out towards Jason to emphasize her point.

"Um...yeah I can..." he chimed in, very perplexed.

"Wait, wha...did you change it while I was talking to you?!" she screamed angrily.

"Negative," Sierra 096 stated calmly, this time speaking over his transmitter for both of them to hear.

"Then when did you change it?!"

"When you commented again on him not being able to hear you."

"So you just made me look like an idiot in front of him?!"

"Negative ma'am."

"'Negative?!'" she shouted, seething.

"Affirmative," he confirmed.

"But you did! Just now!"

"Anything you feel now is the result of your own actions, ma'am," Kyle told her simply, reaching for his rifle as he cast off the accusation.

"You could have told me what you were doing!"

"A small synchronization message should have displayed itself inside your visor."

"I wasn't busy reading the inside of my damn helmet when I was about to tell this guy off!"

"Perhaps you should be more observant and aware of your surroundings then, ma'am," the Spartan told her calmly, the rifle now resting across his chest, stock stowed in the crook of his arm.

"Are you saying I don't pay attention to things?!" she snapped, fists balled at her sides.

"Jason Jones," Kyle turned his head from her, ignoring her, "it would be in your friends' best interest if you lead the woman and I to where they are hiding to escort them off world."

"I really don-"

"Answer the damn question, Spartan!" Selena demanded, cutting JJ off.

"This isn't the time for this ma'am," he told her, standing patiently in his spot like a statue.

"Well you'd better make time for this, or I-"

"You'll get us all killed," Kyle finished her sentence, turning his head back to the left to look down on her.

"For both our sakes, quit being so rash and let me talk to this man."

"Fine!" she conceded, "But next time, let me know when you go screwing with the stuff inside my suit."

"Acknowledged," he nodded agreeably.

"Hmph...good," she muttered, putting her hands on her hips and still staring up at him.

"So uh..."

Both the Spartan and the civilian donned in SWAT team armor turned their heads simultaneously to look towards Jason, who was now standing before them very awkwardly.

"Are you two done or uh...do you need a room or something?...

"Excuse you?" Selena spat.

"Negative sir," Kyle replied, letting the remark go over his head, "just take us to the other survivors."

"I've been trying to tell you, it's just a waste of time. I'd rather get myself out of here in one piece than go back to get those fuckers, only to find them all turned into a bunch of creepy, moaning, ugly hunks of-"

Suddenly JJ found himself staring down the long barrel of an assault rifle, the tip of a fresh 7.62x51 millimeter round directed straight at him from deep within it.

"Willing to abandon your morality as well as your friends, _sir_?" Kyle asked him, much more coldly than he had ever spoken before.

"Well, I-I..." he stammered out, raising his hands slowly in fear.

"I can't guarantee your safety if you fail to comply," Kyle went on, clicking the safety switch off loudly.

"You-you're seriously going to shoot me?" he asked, shaking.

"You're not really going to hurt him, are you?" Selena asked nervously, taking a step toward her Spartan friend.

"No," he answered, "but the Flood will."

"You can't just leave me here! They'll slaughter me!" Jason cried out, shaking like a leaf.

"I won't leave you here," the Captain corrected him, lowering his rifle as he spoke, "we'll use you as bait."

"B...b... _bait?_ " he whimpered out.

"Affirmative. You'll be our decoy while Ms. Ackerson and I make our way out of this sector and search for your friends. The Flood would make short work of you however-"

"Alright!" Jason desperately pleaded, "I'll help, I'll help! Please just don't let those things turn me into one of them!"

"The UNSC thanks you for your assistance, sir," Kyle responded politely, lowering his rifle completely and taking a more relaxed stance once more.

"Now, lead on."

With a great amount of reluctance but with an even greater amount of fear for the Spartan, the man known as Jason led Selena and Sierra 096 out of the supermarket. Selena pondered what the Spartan had just done to their newest acquaintance to get him to cooperate. She found herself wondering if he always operated this way, inspiring fear and trepidation to achieve his goals. Somehow though, she didn't think he did. At least, not very often anyway. But if that were the case, why now? He had never threatened to hurt her when she wouldn't cooperate with him after all, he would just simply make her or he would calm her down. Yes it was urgent for them to leave and yes, they had no desire to be killed and eaten by Flood parasites but, the more she thought of it, the deeper the action seemed to her. What was it? Fear? Desperation? Anxiety? None of those things seemed to fit; the Captain cared for his own personal safety to some degree she supposed, but he was also not afraid to be directly in harm's way. So what drove him to such intimidation?

Stopping at the front doors to trepidly look down both ends of the street, JJ quickly whispered to them:

"Alright, I don't see anything, come on,"

As they crossed the threshold one by one, Sierra 096 coming in last to bring up the rear, Selena decided to voice her thoughts.

"Hey, Captain," she said softly, stopping for a minute to stand beside him on the sidewalk.

"Listen lady, we don't have time to chat out here," JJ stated pointedly, hunching over and letting his eyes dart around, looking for any signs of movement.

"Butt out you, this is between me and him," she retorted, staring up into his reflective gold visor.

"I didn't agree to this to get killed in thirty seconds on a sidewalk by a bunch of H.P. Lovecraft monsters," Jason in turn retorted in retaliation.

"He's right ma'am, we need to hurry. Mission timer reads nineteen fifty-five hours," he said.

"Just, switch it back to where we can only hear each other, alright? I wanna ask you something," she pleaded with him, grabbing his arm lightly.

Kyle tilted his head in response.

"Please?"

He sighed deeply, his breath rasping with a low, staticy sound.

"Roger that."

Almost immediately his voice sounded in her ears, low and calm as ever. As he spoke he waved his hand for Jason to continue leading them down the sidewalk, proceeding on the path leading towards the left outside of the building they had exited.

" _Sierra zero-niner-six transmitting on a closed channel, do you read? Over."_

"Is that really necessary?" she asked him, smiling a little.

" _Affirmative ma'am."_

"Alright, fine, I'll play along," Selena cleared her throat, mimicking the Spartan's voice as much as she could:

"This is Selena Ackerson, I read you Captain, over."

" _Well done, ma'am, over,_ " he complimented.

"Thank you, I learned from the best," she replied, "but I hope you don't mind if I don't keep going with the whole radio-speak thing."

" _I didn't expect you too,_ " Kyle's voice answered.

"Good. Seems like you're not keeping up with it either though; in fact, you never really did when you first gave me the helmet..."

" _I reasoned to let you grow used to the downscaled MJOLNIR systems and weapons I've equipt you with before teaching you anything further. I thought you would be more comfortable this way."_

"Such a gentleman...where was all that when we first met?"

" _I don't follow, ma'am."_

"Of course you don't," she sighed, "but that's not why I wanted to talk to you."

The Spartan on the other end didn't answer, waiting quietly for her to go on instead. They followed Jason in utter silence save for dull footfalls impacting on the concrete, their conversation completely contained within their suits. Sierra 096 kept his gaze straight ahead, matching the survivor's hasty walking speed. Selena did the same, though she couldn't help but glance back at the Spartan II every so often.

"I uh...wanted to know what was up with you back there."

" _Elaborate please, ma'am."_

"When you...threatened the guy we're following now..."

" _What of it?_ " he asked patiently.

"It just...somehow didn't seem like the person I know you as," she explained, listening to his filtered voice anxiously.

" _I don't follow ma'am,_ " his voice responded.

"Ugh..." Selena sighed, growing frustrated as she thought of what words to use.

"Look...I know you're a violent guy and, you don't really like taking shit from anybody you're trying to help but...somehow I don't think you'd actually stick this guy in a shark cage and throw him down into the ocean as bait."

" _Why would I want to catch a shark?_ " Kyle inquired, a little confused.

"Oh my God...I'm using it just as an example.." she rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth, making a faint hissing noise out of impatience.

" _I see._ "

"Do you get what I'm saying?"

" _You believe I acted out of character, and that my actions had a deeper ulterior motive_."

Selena blinked, taking a moment to process what she had just heard.

"Whoa um...yeah...maybe I should have just been that straight up to begin with..."

" _It would be preferable ma'am,_ " Kyle agreed.

"So uh, anyway, is there...something else going on inside that helmet?"

" _There's always something 'going on inside this helmet' Ms. Ackerson,_ " the low, solemn voice of the Spartan responded evasively.

"Can't you tell me more about yourself? Why you do the things you do?"

" _What does it matter?_ "

"Because you're my friend now," Selena exclaimed, turning her head over her right shoulder to look at him as they marched onward, "and believe it or not, I actually care. I know I'm shit at showing it because of how moody I get but..."

" _I understand. It's a normal enough response for an untrained civilian_ ," he said compassionately.

"See, right there," she pointed out, "you didn't act like that before."

" _Maybe I just wanted to be understanding and courteous ma'am._ "

"If there's one thing I know anything about in this world Captain, it's feelings," Selena proclaimed, turning her head again to face forward.

"And you're hiding all of them."

" _It's none of your concern_."

"And I say it is, as your friend."

" _I can't tell you,_ " he said, a tinge of defiance in his voice.

"Why? Why not? Why is it so hard for you to talk about anything? Don't you trust people?" she demanded, growing a little agitated.

" _Because you won't like what you hear."_

"I want to hear it anyway. Please, if you can't open up to me, then who will you talk to?" the woman pleaded.

The loudest, deepest, most saddening sigh she had ever heard filled her ears, making her feel even more anxious than before. After a few moments of hesitation, he spoke:

" _I've failed Ms. Ackerson."_

"...Failed?" she asked softly, the deep sadness in his voice tugging at her heart strings more than she had been prepared for.

" _My team is gone because of me- my brothers and sisters,"_ Kyle said, feeling the weight of all their lives on his shoulders.

" _I failed them all._ "

"You did the best you could..."

" _I should have been better."_

Selena jerked her head back to look at him again. His gaze was straight ahead, giving the appearance that he was cool and collected. But his words betrayed how bitter he truly was inside. Slowly she began to understand, and she felt nothing but sympathy for him.

"What were their names?" she asked quietly.

" _Sierra zero-two-two, Sierra zero-three-four, Sierra zero-five-seven, and Sierra one-two-three_."

"They didn't have names?"

" _ONI took our names from us when we were first brought to our new home to be trained_ ," he explained to her calmly, making sure to not look at her even for a moment.

"Why? Did you sign up for it? Did you agree to that?"

" _The decision was not ours to make."_

"What do you mean, weren't you at least eighteen when you joined the military? They couldn't just rob you of your names like that if you were. You have rights, you have-"

" _Before I tell you anymore Ms. Ackerson, you must promise me something._ "

"...What is it?" she asked nervously, waiting for him to go on as he sighed one more time, speaking in a very quiet voice.

" _You must keep everything I tell you a secret, no matter what happens. If people were to know what the Spartan IIs are...there would be violent outrage."_

"...Violent outrage? What are you..."

" _Spartan IIs are taken from their homes when they are very young. The-"_

"Taken? _Taken?_ Very young? Captain, what are you-?"

"We're here!" Jason called out to them from up front, stopping her mid question.

"The Hell?!" she shouted, though he couldn't hear her because of her transmitters being muted again for the private conversation she had been having.

" _We'll speak another time. Come on,_ " Kyle said in his normal tone, acting as if nothing had happened.

"What? No! You were just about to tell me something!" she spun on her heel to face him abruptly, holding her arms out in front of her to halt his progress.

" _There'll be another time_."

Grabbing her by the arm he led her behind him, following Jason off the sidewalk and into a heavily damaged townhouse situated between a dozen other crumbling ones of all varying colors and exterior design. It's ugly, gaudy, yellow paint peeled off in massive flakes, showering the base of the home with a repulsive rain of yellow paint chips. The roof was blackened and caving in at the center, and its two forward facing windows were shattered completely; one on the ground floor, the other on the second. A small set of three concrete steps rose up to meet the threshold of a battered steel sliding door, its key panel smashed and the wires within fried beyond salvage.

"Get in, quick!" Jason hissed as he shoved the door aside and hurriedly scampered in.

"There's no telling when those things are following you!"

Kyle pushed Selena ahead of himself and across the home's threshold, spinning on his heel and raising his rifle up to point it out towards the road. It swayed from side to side steadily, scanning for hostiles. He slowly backed into the house, taking his left hand off his rifle and gripping the side of the door, pulling it closed as quickly as possible. The steel squeaked a bit as it was brought to bear against the other side of the doorframe. Turning away back to his two traveling companions he replaced his hand back on its normal spot on the MA5, resting it over his chestplate and watching them both in the dark interior.

"Where are they?" Kyle asked Jason, shining his spotlamps down on him.

"Again with the high beams dude?!" JJ hissed irritatedly, ducking his head down and casting his arms up to block out the light.

"Ugh, they're in the basement. Goddamn you're impatient," he scowled, squinting at Kyle past his spread fingers.

" _I'm actually grateful for the light,"_ Selena's voice said, spiting Jason's reaction.

" _But back to what we were talking about, you were about to-"_

"Let's go Mr. Jones, time is short," Kyle commanded, pushing JJ's arms down and simultaneously lowering the brightness of his spotlamps.

"What, we can't go raid the fridge for some beers first?" he asked sarcastically. Sierra 096 responded by grabbing the collar of his flannel shirt and inching his visor close to his face.

" _Now_."

"Christ almighty, alright," the man relented, briskly turning away from the Spartan once he let go of his shirt.

"This way. I'm really surprised this whole fuckin' thing hasn't collapsed by now. Pretty much all the others have," he continued to speak, bitterly lamenting the situation.

The portly man led Kyle and Selena straight forward then to the right, passing the living room to the left of the entrance and the dining room on the right. They went down a dark hallway, the walls being briefly bathed in light from the Spartan's spotlamps as they passed. Dozens of long, jagged marks were etched into the white paint, blood splotched all about. Two doors were set into the left side of the hall, spaced about seven feet apart, a single door set on the right about a quarter of the way down in contrast. All three were tightly shut, covered in more crimson smears.

As they went onward the sound of crunching glass came from beneath Jason's feet. Selena glanced down to see a crushed picture frame beneath his shoe, a family photo ripped and ruined within what was left of the wood and glass.

Coming to the very end Jason led them to a second door set into the right wall about thirteen feet away from the first, which had not been readily visible before thanks to it being completely caked in dried blood much like the rest of its surrounding frame.

" _I really think I'm gonna be sick,_ " Selena's voice muttered disgustedly in Kyle's helmet.

"Well, here we are," Jason mumbled, turning his head back to Sierra 096.

"Really sure about this? They could all be dead in there by now and-"

The Captain flicked the safety of his rifle on and off, impatiently.

"Uggggggh," Jason groaned. With great reproach he slowly rapped his right fist against the bloodied wood three times, waiting silently for several long moments before saying:

"Hey, David, it's me: Jones. Open the door man, I need in."

Fifteen seconds passed with no response.

"David, buddy, open up. Come on man," Jason asked as friendly as he could, knocking on the door three more times, slightly harder than before.

Twenty seconds passed this time.

"Well, I guess you don't want any of this ham and bread I found out in the store-"

"Were you followed?" a muffled, haggard voice asked from the other side.

"If I was don't you think I'd be moanin' and groanin' like one of them zombies out there?" Jason smartly countered.

Several locks clunked loudly and the clinking of a door chain being moved emanated from the opposite side, making JJ take two steps back. Slowly the door creaked open, a dim light spilling out from the widening breach. Kyle switched off his spotlamps, letting the new source of light illuminate them instead. A shaded figure peered at Jason from the opening, half its body still hidden behind the ajar door.

"The Hell took you so long?" a man's voice asked in a hushed tone, "And where's the food you brought at? The girls are starving down the-"

"We don't have time to stand on pleasantries," Sierra 096 interjected, stepping in front of Jason out from the shadows.

"And who the fuck are yo..." the silhouette stopped midway, its head turning up to gaze at the Spartan's full height.

"Uh...Jones...Who's this?"

"A very impatient acquaintance," he snorted in response, crossing his arms.

"It's imperative that you gather all personnel accompanying you as quickly as-"

"Hold on there big...giant, blue guy," the silhouetted man interrupted, opening the door all the way to show his features.

He was lightly tanned and muscular in appearance, standing at roughly five feet and eleven inches tall. A dirty white T-shirt covered his upper body with the faded words "Never Forget: 2525," written in red below a stylized UNSC Eagle insignia, dominating the center of the graphic. Relatively clean jean pants hung loosely over his legs, ending with a pair of white sneakers caked in dried mud and specs of red. His lower face was grizzled by a thin, fast growing beard and mustache. Short, oily auburn hair sat on his scalp, unkempt and spiky. Dull green eyes stared up at Kyle warily, more bloodshot and haggard than JJ's had appeared.

"I'm not moving these people anywhere until I figure out who the Hell you are and-"

"We," Kyle said patiently.

"'We?' Who's 'we?'" he asked incredulously.

"Her," Sierra 096 replied flatly, reaching behind himself with his left hand and grabbing Selena's right wrist, bringing her forward unceremoniously and letting his rifle hang down by his side. The light gleamed in her silvery visor as she looked on, a bit embarrassed.

"Anymore people hiding behind you JJ?" he asked, looking at him crossly.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention I brought about a dozen pole dancers with me too Davey boy," Jason grinned slyly.

"Shut the fuck up," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Alright asshole, get in here. You too uh, big blue man and...very quiet, SWAT team lady."

Moving to the side David held the door open by the knob to let Jason walk past first to descend down a long set of dirty, concrete stairs underneath a singular, dim light bulb. Selena went in after him, looking at David nervously and keeping an overly tight hold on her M7. A gentle hand touched her shoulder, making her head snap to the right quickly to see the Spartan peering down at her.

 _"Um, right, sorry,"_ she apologized, flustered.

She started down the stairs again, trying not to go too fast as to avoid crumpling beneath the weight of her armor and bag. Kyle crossed over last, standing off to the far left to allow David to close the door. The man just stared at him though, waiting for him to walk down.

"You uh, gonna go big man?" David asked him, perplexed.

"After you," Kyle replied, standing perfectly still.

"What, you don't trust me or something?"

"Not enough intel to say one way or the other, sir. For the time being, I'd like to keep you and your personnel under careful observation."

"So...you don't trust me basically?" he asked again, bluntly.

Kyle didn't respond, instead clicking the safety of his rifle off and on slowly.

"Are all those guns and body armor not enough to make ya feel safe or something army man?" David jabbed, making no sign that he was going to move from his spot.

Still, absolute silence and a steady clicking sound. Sierra 096's gold visor reflected the man's body back at him, showing a tinier version of his exhausted, dirty appearance. The faint light glinted dully off the edges of his visor, the rest of the soldier's body bathed in thin shadows.

"Alright fine," David huffed, closing the door and locking each of the four deadbolts, ending with the door chain at the top of the line.

"Before you decide to grease my ass or something."

He made his way down the stairs with the Spartan in tow a few paces behind, footfalls clunking faintly while they went. David held fast to the aluminum railing bolted into the right wall, quickly making his way down. Once they both reached the bottom, Kyle found himself in a small, drab, concrete basement. The grey walls had four posters hanging loosely about. None of them were of anything particularly fascinating to the Spartan, they just seemed to be placed in their spaces on a whim, nothing more than pointless decoration. One of them however bore the full-body image of a half naked woman wearing nothing but a bright red bikini tightly clad around her waist. She stood before a bright, vibrant beach background with dozens of palm trees blowing in a gentle breeze behind her, forever frozen in that instance by the photographer's camera. She was darkly tanned and stared out at him, winking playfully and licking her lips while she held both her bare breasts in her hands and squeezed them together. Beneath her read: " _Ms. June, 2615_." Kyle had to look twice at it, his facial features souring with disdain beneath the blue titanium of his Mk VI.

Six sleeping bags laid strewn about on the dirtied floor beneath the poster of the nameless woman, various traveling bags next to each. The man that had led them inside, Jason, was lazily sprawled out on top of a purple sleeping bag with a small black backpack next to him. By the sounds escaping his mouth, he sounded like he had fallen asleep.

Selena waited for the two to meet her, the matte-black clad woman standing nervously by the end of the stairs with her eyes seemingly fixed on the small group of people taking shelter beneath the crumbling home. They shifted their gaze to the Spartan when he descended the last step, giving him four pairs of wide-eyed, bloodshot stares.

Three women and one man sat around a pair of nesting tables directly across from the landing of the stairs. They were seated in small, black square folding chairs beneath a slow spinning ceiling fan fixed with a single large light. Of the two tables the largest was occupied by two women, the first being of Asian descent. Mid thirties by the looks of her, approximately five feet six inches tall with dark eyes and shoulder length, straight black hair. Her skin was porcelain white and she appeared to be relatively clean compared to the others, clothed in a very elegant button-up red blouse, black silk bootcut pants, and black high heels. She had on a very expensive set of pearl earrings and a matching necklace, along with a narrow gold watch on her left wrist.

The woman across from her appeared to be in her early twenties, her caramel colored complexion suggesting her family line was from Central America. Judging by the length of her legs compared to her Asian counterpart, she had to have been at least an inch or two shorter. She had similar eye color to her however, with long, scraggly brown hair pulled back in a simple ponytail on the back of her head. A large bulge protruded out over her waistline, a torn sky blue sundress covered her otherwise slim figure and beige pumps wrapped over her tiny feet. Sweat glistened on her brow as she stared at the Spartan with her friend, arms laid out over the tabletop next to a half emptied, translucent orange cup of water.

"Um...hi...mister..." she greeted fearfully, eyes running over every piece of weaponry on him and the gore stains dotting his armor.

"Hello ma'am," he answered formally, nodding his head in her direction.

"I'm Tania, it's...really nice to meet someone like you." She gave him a forced smile, but the anxiety and stress was still very much present in her features.

Kyle wordlessly nodded, acknowledging the pleasant greeting.

 _"Um, Spartan-"_ Selena's voice began in his ear, only to be cut off by another woman sitting next to Tania.

"You got a name, soldier?" she asked.

She wore an army green tank top and jean shorts, both wrinkled completely and appearing to be a bit too small for her. A pair of oil covered work boots covered her feet and a shining police officer's badge hung from a thin chain around her neck, resting atop her bosom. Bleach-blonde hair framed either side of her blush colored face, tired grey eyes directed at him intensely. Her hands gripped the edge of her table as she leaned forward to speak to him, revealing a small gold band wrapped around her left ring finger. The woman seemed to be in her late twenties or early thirties.

"Sierra zero-niner-six, ma'am," Kyle answered compliantly, shifting his Mk VI helmet toward her.

"What's that supposed to be?" she furrowed her brow, waiting for an explanation.

"Spartan recruitment designation," he informed her, feeling the room's eyes stare at him a bit more closely.

"A...a what?"

"Recruitment designation, ma'am," he repeated.

"Not that, the first thing," she pressed.

"A Spartan."

"You mean...you're a super soldier?" she breathed, blinking once.

"Affirmative," Kyle confirmed.

"I didn't expect one of you to be out here..."

"Neither did I."

A man leaned back in his chair, late forties, a thick, greying beard covering his face and a receding line of chestnut brown hair atop his head. Wrinkles and sun damaged splotches marred his face, and eyes that were as grey as the blonde woman's studied him beneath a bushy brow. He wore a simple brown jacket and a collared, button-up, scarlet long sleeve beneath it. His jeans were stained with decades of old oil and grease spots. Thick, black work boots were planted firmly on the ground as he leaned around the well dressed woman to his right to speak.

"Sierra zero-niner-six," he continued, calling the Spartan's attention to him, "I'm Credence Raine. Back in my youth I served the UNSC as a mechanic on a _Phoenix_ -class colony ship. My grandfather used to tell me stories about men and women like you as a boy."

He stood up shakily, old age making his knees crack as he rose to show his respect to the Spartan.

"What's your rank, son?" he asked, resting his hands against the back of his chair.

"Captain, sir," Kyle replied. swapping his rifle to his left hand and letting it hang down by his thigh.

"Master Chief Petty Officer Raine, sir," Credence said, snapping his feet together and standing up perfectly straight to sharply salute Kyle.

"With all due respect Captain, don't call me sir," he smiled at him, waiting for him to return the salute.

"How long did you serve, Master Chief?" Kyle asked him, snapping his right hand to his helmet's sun visor in the proper military fashion.

"Twenty-two years sir," Credence proudly answered, letting his arm fall back down at his side as Sierra 096 lowered his own, "I enlisted right out of high school. Best damn thing I did in my life."

" _Ahem_..." the blonde woman at the table coughed, looking at him with one raised eyebrow.

"Well, except for raising a daughter," he added, "this is Sherry, my only child."

Kyle nodded at her quietly, returning his attention to the veteran in front of him.

"My grandfather was a Gunnery Sergeant in the Corps during the old alien war. Goddamn, the things he told me you wouldn't believe-"

" _Captain,"_ Selena's voice faintly whispered in Kyle's audio receivers.

"-well, maybe you would believe them, being a Spartan too and all. He told me one time, how a-"

" _Captain..."_ Selena whispered again, slightly louder.

"Go ahead ma'am," Sierra 096 told her, muting his voice transmitter to prevent his voice from exiting his helmet.

"-Spartan flipped a tank with one flick of his wrist! He just put his hand underneath the thing and flipped that sonuvabitch over!"

" _I was hoping to talk to you in private-"_

"And then he got in it and-"

" _Without having to talk over this guy..."_ she said, very much annoyed.

"Master Chief," Kyle stopped Credence partway through his excited recounting of his grandfather's story. He froze with his mouth partially open, arms still positioned like he was a Spartan flipping over a tank.

"Apologies for the interruption, but I need to speak to my companion. It's urgent."

"Um...yes, of course. Eh, sorry for getting carried away. It's just that...I never thought I'd meet a man like you in my life," he said.

"No harm done Petty Officer," the Spartan reassured him calmly, swinging his left arm up and over his shoulder to snap his rifle against his back plate.

Turning one hundred and eighty degrees with one precise spin on his heels, he put his back to the four at the nesting tables and made his way to the very self-conscious woman waiting by herself at the far side of the basement. She watched David glance at him as he went to walk towards his friends, the excitable middle aged man taking his seat once more while they began talking amongst themselves in hushed tones. Selena led him a few paces further once he had closed the distance, leading him to an empty corner. A doorless bathroom sat a few strides away from the two armored individuals, its light shining brightly to show an old, filthy toilet that used to be porcelain white housed within. A sink of similar condition was set into the wall to the left of it, soap scum caking the silvery faucet with ugly white stains.

"You wanted to speak to me ma'am?" he asked her, giving her his full attention.

" _Yeah, about a lot actually. Like what you were about to say outside and how you ignored me when I tried to get you to talk. And I also would like to know how to work this damn bucket you put over my head."_

"It's much more sophisticated than a bucket, with all due respect ma'am," Kyle informed her.

" _Uh-huh, I'm sure it is,"_ she answered with contempt, _"but that's not what I wanna talk about."_

"Time is short Ms. Ackerson, I'd ask you to-"

" _I know, I get that. You've said several times already. But this is important."_ Her breath rasped uneasily through the sound filters.

" _You remember how you told me to watch this little radar in my helmet all the time?"_

"Affirmative."

" _Well, I've been watching it for the past few minutes while that old man was chatting you up and...there's A TON of red all over it. Like, a metric ass ton of red..."_ she trailed off, the worry very apparent.

"I know, I've been aware this entire time," he told her.

" _Wait, really?"_ Selena asked, surprised.

"Yes, they've been following us from a range of approximately one hundred meters since we made our way outside with Mr. Jones," Kyle elaborated.

" _WHAT!? Why didn't you say anything then? I thought they stopped following us when we went in to get him!"_

"They lost our trail momentarily when we stepped off of the street to find the civilian, but reacquired us once we made our way out into the open again. The situation was under control for the time being however."

" _Under control!? What the actual fu- Alright, hold on, I thought you said the motion thingy only had a range of twenty-five meters!"_

"Yours does, yes. Mine has an effective range of one hundred and fifty."

" _So...this whole time that we've been together...they could have been following us, and you-"_

"We _have_ been followed for almost the entire duration of our time together, ma'am," the Spartan corrected.

" _WHAT THE FUCK!"_ she screamed in his ears, making him wince. Her fists were held stiff at her sides and her silver visor glared at him furiously.

" _Why!? Why didn't you say anything!?"_

"Because I had the situation under control. There was no need to panic you or the people we've just encountered," he defended himself calmly.

" _But what if you didn't, huh!? What if they gutted you and went for me next!? What if they turned me into one of their ugly meat puppets!? What if they turned YOU into one!?"_

"It hasn't happened yet. And it never will."

" _How can you be so sure!?"_ Selena demanded, her blood running so hot she could feel her temperature rising.

"Because I was trained to do this since I was six."

Just as she was about to start screaming her lungs out in response, her voice caught in her throat. Her fists steadily unclenched, her eyes slowly blinked and stared at him, completely filled with bewilderment and utter shock.

 _"What...what did you just say?..."_

"I shouldn't have said that," Sierra 096 immediately regretted, turning his head to the left to stare at the wall next to them. He felt her stare on him like an insect beneath a microscope.

" _You were...they taught you to kill people...when you were just a little boy?..."_

"Forget it," he responded, turning bitter.

" _How could anyone do that to someone so young? Why? That's just...just..."_

"I said forget it," Kyle said angrily, gritting his teeth.

" _No. No, I won't Spartan,"_ she answered defiantly, taking a step towards him.

" _That's wrong. It's despicable, immoral. I can't just forget something like that."_

"It's not your burden to bear."

" _It is now. Why did they take you? Why did they-"_

"I chose this myself," he said, snapping his head back to look her in the visor. The woman took a step away from him, arms half raised at her sides as if she was about to push him away if he got too close.

" _You can't make those types of decisions when you're six years old..."_

"I did," he countered.

" _They took advantage of your innocence, Captain..."_

"No," he growled, making her take another step back, "they gave me purpose. They made me the soldier humanity needed me to be. Me and all the others."

He raised his clenched fist and pointed his index finger out towards her as he continued:

"We are NOT slaves, we are NOT victims, and we do NOT need your pity."

" _But-"_

"Nothing you say will ever change what has happened to me, or my family. This is what I am, this what I am for until my dying breath. A soldier of the UNSC, a protector of Earth and all her colonies. "

Sierra 096 gazed deep into Selena's Military Police helmet, lowering his fist and holding both tightly at his sides, speaking with the deepest conviction she had ever heard:

"I am your shield. I am your sword."

" _You..."_ she started, her voice failing her while her eyes were lost in the hard, unfeeling gaze of the Spartan. His words struck a deep chord within her heart, twisting her feelings and everything she had known in ways she couldn't even begin to discern.

" _You really believe that...don't you?..."_

"Tell no one of what you know, if you value your life," he told her, turning away from her and beginning to walk back towards the small group of haggard, displaced individuals.

"I won't harm you for knowing what you know now, but others will. I cannot guarantee your safety once we leave this world should you speak of this."

All the woman could do was watch him walk away in absolute silence, her gaze heavy and pointed down at the dreary concrete floor. Black clad hands absently reached for the SMG that hung by her hip, fingers wrapping over it loosely and bringing it within view. Green eyes running over the cold, black titanium of the fully automatic weapon, her thoughts began to race.

 _This is all he's ever known? I can't believe this. It explains a lot but...no, it's still not right. It's not his fault. He didn't grow up normally. He just..._

She turned the weapon over in her hands, sighing deeply.

 _I've been terrible to him. And I keep doing it. I shouldn't be so...bitchy towards him. He doesn't know what anything is like outside of the Military. But he will. I'll show him what it's like to live without a damned gun all the time. It's the least I can do..._

Holding her head up and keeping her loose grip on the submachine gun, she made her way to the Spartan's side just as he stopped beside David, making them all direct their undivided attention on his person.

"So uh, big blue-"

"Sierra zero-niner-six," Kyle corrected David.

"Right, can I just call you big blue though?" he insisted, trying at the very least to make the Spartan laugh.

"I mean, you're big, you're blue, so it just kinda works, ya-"

"No," he said coldly.

"For God's sake show the Captain some respect," Credence scolded David, leaning forward on the table with his forearms, fists balled in front of him.

"Last time I checked old man, you didn't call the shots around here, I do," David retorted, pointing towards himself with his thumb for emphasis.

"This is myplace, and I-"

"You mean the place you were _renting_?" the Asian woman spoke up. She leaned forward along with the old Petty Officer, eyeballing the mouthy young man.

"What difference does it make?" he spat at her.

"It makes all the difference," she replied coolly, "you're not the owner, so therefore, this isn't your place at all." Scowling at him, she added:

"And if you were, I'd tell you to repaint your godawful house- that yellow outside is disgusting to look at."

"Why you smart mouthed-"

"That's enough."

The Spartan's cold, hard tone stopped David's indignant blustering midway, causing him to turn around slowly to glare up at him.

"What did you just say?" he snarled.

"Maybe if you weren't busy being an annoyance you would have heard," Kyle retorted, the jab carrying extra weight with his emotionless voice.

"You're wasting time when we have none to spare. Fall in line or stand aside, but do not stand in my way."

With that, Kyle shoved the man aside with a forceful nudge of his right arm, making him nearly topple over. Taking the space he had stood in at the head of the two tables, the eyes of the four gathered there turned to him. David stood far off to the Spartan's right, scowling angrily and crossing his arms.

"So, Captain," the snarky woman in the blouse began, "are you here to keep us safe until more of your associates arrive, or is this just some type of social call?"

"Your friend," Sierra 096 pointed over his large Security shoulder plate with his thumb towards the sleeping man behind him and Selena, "led us here. We've come to extract you."

"So, are there more of you arriving then?" she pressed him.

"Are you asking are there more ground forces arriving ma'am?" he asked.

"Naturally yes," she said, looking at him expectantly.

"Negative ma'am," Kyle answered dutifully.

"So you mean...you're all they sent?" she continued, incredulity in her tone.

"Negative ma'am," he repeated.

"Then where are the rest of you?" the woman demanded, leaning sharply forward.

"KIA."

"Oh..." she trailed off, stunned.

"Dear God..." Tania whispered, "how...how many were there with you?"

"Two dozen marines, ma'am," he shifted his view to the right, away from the well dressed woman to address her. All she could do was stare back at him, wracked with fear.

"So it's just you protecting us?" Sherry spoke up, just as worried and shaken as the others now appeared to be.

"No," he said, looking to his left at Selena, " _we_ will protect you."

"Who even is this person? She hasn't said a word to us at all," the woman in the blouse asked irritably, shaking off the thing the Spartan had told them rather quickly.

" _Can I talk to them please, Captain?"_ Selena's voice requested politely in his ear. Kyle had to pause for a moment to assure himself he had heard her rightly.

"Of course ma'am," he responded, unbeknownst to the company before them, "one moment please."

" _Thank you."_

She waited patiently as the small, translucent blue text reading _"Synchronizing..."_ flashed at the very bottom of her visor. It disappeared within seconds, reading _"Synchronization complete"_ and steadily she drew a breath, clearing her throat quietly.

"Well, are you going to speak to us?" Sherry asked crossly.

"My name is Selena-" she answered her, her voice coming out soft and calm through the filters. The company blinked and glanced among themselves, bewildered at how young and unprofessional she sounded compared to the Spartan.

"-Selena Ackerson," she finished.

"You don't sound like a soldier..." Credence muttered.

"Or a SWAT team member," Sherry added, looking at the large white letters and crest painted onto Selena's chestplate.

"That's because I'm neither," Selena told them, "I'm a full time student at the college and a part time employee at a law firm downtown. I was studying to become a lawyer; before the bombs fell, I was just the girl that answered the phones and alphabetized files..."

Her head tilted down to look at the SMG sitting in her hands, feeling their eyes watching every move.

"Before today, I never held a gun before..."

"It hasn't been easy for any of us either," David's voice spoke from the side, walking behind Tania to put himself clearly in her view.

"So what's your point?"

"If you'd let me finish," she said, frowning, "I'd tell you."

He crossed his arms and made an impatient noise, Credence and Sherry both shooting him stern looks. Tania waited completely silently, still stunned from earlier. The Asian woman watched Selena with mostly callous disregard, barely interested.

"The Spartan found me unconscious at work, this...this...thing, stuck through my stomach," she took a hand off her weapon and waved her hand over her lower abdomen, showing them where she had been impaled, "and he took it out. He carried me to the hospital, ran dozens of miles without stopping just to fix me up and keep me from dying."

"Yes, we get it. The Spartan saved your life, but that doesn't exactly-"

"I'm not done," Selena said in a vexed voice to the woman in the blouse. She fell silent, leaning back and huffing indignantly.

"Then we got attacked by dozens of those monsters- he didn't run, he didn't abandon me...He just...killed them all. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to. He wanted to protect me, save me...even if I didn't think I deserved it." She bowed her head and sighed, the sound raspy and staticky.

"The Captain's a good person. A good man. Just because there's no more help coming doesn't mean you'll die. He won't let it happen. I know he won't. I believe in him because..."

Selena turned her whole body to face Kyle, who for the entire duration of her time speaking had stood by her side in a patient silence. Taking both her hands off her weapon, she touched his arm gently, making him look down at her as she finished her speech.

"He's my friend..."

Kyle tilted his head to the side as she stared up into his visor.

"And I trust him with all my heart."

Selena held his gaze, smiling warmly at him despite it not being visible to him. He looked a bit uncomfortable with the way she was acting towards him, unsure of how to respond. Or if he should even respond at all. After a few minutes, he simply nodded his head respectfully in a silent thank you. When they turned back to the group, they found Tania and Sherry smiling at them both, Credence leaning back in his chair and grinning.

"Looks like you found a little more than you bargained for in this little lady, sir," he said, chuckling.

"It's really sweet," Tania added, giving the Spartan a very warm smile.

"Yeah, yeah..." the Asian woman said rudely.

"Get the stick outta your ass Donna," Sherry snarled at her, "no wonder you've got no real friends. Even when the world's ending around you you still have to act like a stuck up bitch."

"Excuse you!?" she snarled back.

"You heard me. I wouldn't mind right now if those things busted in here and smeared your preppy, designer ass all over the walls. It would save us all the aggravation."

"I can't believe the shit I'm hearing right now!" she growled back, getting ready to stand up and have it out with Sherry.

"Ma'am, I suggest you remain calm," Kyle advised her.

"Or else what, you'll act like the mindless drone you are and shove your gun in my fa-"

"No, I will!" Selena pointed her SMG inches away from Donna's face, instantly quieting her.

"Now shut the fuck up lady and let him talk!"

"Jesus Christ..." she muttered, raising her hands nervously and sitting back down fully.

Sierra 096 nodded at his partner as she glanced back at him, lowering her weapon.

"Thank you ma'am. Now," Kyle projected his voice with all the authority he could muster, "under me and my acting second in command Ms. Ackerson, the six of you will follow closely behind us towards the outskirts of the city. A D77H-TCI Pelican dropship will be on approach between 2100 and 2200 looking for our LZ which will be marked by a red flare. We will hold our position against any and all hostiles attempting to assault us until it arrives to extract us."

"How far away is the LZ sir?" Credence asked.

"We'll be heading two klicks out from the nearest structure marking the city limits," Kyle answered, "there's a large clearing out there next to the road leaving the borders; we'll follow the road until we reach it."

"Hold on-" David said, getting the Spartan's attention, "we're sitting about twenty-four kilometers away from the limits where we're at now. We're not like you, we'll never make it in time on-"

"On foot, I know," the Captain said, "we'll need to procure a vehicle."

"My truck is parked a few blocks down Spartan," Credence piped in.

"It doesn't have much fuel left, but it'll make the trip."

"Well done Chief," Kyle nodded appreciatively.

"But what if those things follow us out there?" Donna cut in.

"I can assure you they most definitely will ma'am," the Spartan affirmed.

"Can't we just call your friends then and-"

"Negative. The Mk VI's signal isn't powerful enough to overcome the interference surrounding Adros."

"So can't you boost the signal?"

"We already did that," Selena answered this time, "that's why they're coming to get us now."

"But you didn't bother to call for reinforcements?" she continued, staring furiously at the pair.

"The fleet is currently being engaged by hostile forces in orbit above the planet. Sending more than one ship down to the surface would draw their fire and effectively decimate our chances of a speedy exfiltration," he explained.

"Then protect the ships until they get here!" she exclaimed.

"The fleet is spread too thinly to do that- the Admiral would be throwing away the lives of good men and women for no-"

"Saving _me_ is a good reason for them to die!"

"I've had enough of you and your selfish bullshit!" Sherry got up so quickly her chair flew backwards, clattering against the wall and waking Jason from his snoring.

"Huh!? Wha-what did I miss!?" he shouted, sitting straight up on his sleeping bag.

Sherry jumped over the table and tackled Donna to the ground slapping her across the face so hard she left a bright, glowing, red handprint. Donna was so stunned by her aggressive response she could barely hold her arms up to defend herself. The blonde woman raised a fist to punch her, but she found she couldn't move it. Fury in her eyes she looked up at her arm to find the Spartan's massive fingers wrapped around her wrist, holding her back.

"Let go! This bitch deserves it!"

"Ms. Raine, calm down," Kyle ordered, "this is wasting our time."

"You agree with her thinking she's worth more than the lives of all the those soldiers out there?" she shot at him.

"Worth more than _your_ life?"

"You all are."

Sherry blinked at him, looking from him to the woman she had just slapped the living Hell out of a moment ago, then back to him. She unclenched her fist and the Spartan released her, letting her stand up and step away from the woman on the ground. Sierra 096 reached down and grabbed one of Donna's hands, yanking her up onto her feet so fast she had to hold onto the Spartan to steady herself. He put his hands on her shoulders and spoke to her sternly:

"However ma'am, you should not disregard the lives of UNSC armed forces members so callously. That is something I will not abide."

"I don't give a damn, I just want to get out of here and back to my three-story on Mars. This vacation was a disaster," she spat at him venomously, backing away from him and the others.

Taking his hands off her, Kyle stepped away from her to address the room again, ignoring the comment.

"How many of you know how to use a weapon besides Petty Officer Raine?"

"Um..." Tania was the first to speak, trailing off almost immediately, "no...Why?"

"The Hell is the meaning of this?" Donna asked shrilly.

"The more able bodied personnel we have armed among us, the better the probability of your group's survival," he said emotionlessly.

"I'll do what I can Niner-six," Credence spoke up, coughing a little, "but I ain't like I used to be."

"Stand up," Kyle ordered him, signalling him over.

Obediently the middle-aged man rose from his seat, joints popping as he did, and took several steps before he stopped in front of the eight-foot tall Spartan.

"Ma'am," Kyle quietly said to Selena, causing her to pivot her helmeted head towards him.

"Give me your rifle."

Extending his right hand out to her, palm open and turned upwards he waited for her to hesitantly reach over her right shoulder and yank the MA5D rifle from its magnetic seal. It came off with a small click, coming to rest in her arms as she cradled it like a newborn baby. She held it out to him gingerly in her skinny, gauntleted hands. Giving her a quick nod of thanks, he took it from her and quickly inspected it. He clicked the safety off and on and glanced at the ammo counter mounted on the top of the weapon, seeing that it still displayed a full thirty-two rounds in the magazine. Holding it out for Credence to take, he asked:

"I assume you're still familiar with the MA5 series assault rifles, Chief?"

"Like the back of my hand, sir," he nodded, taking the rifle and tucking the stock into the crook of his arm.

"Turn around ma'am," Kyle said, gesturing for Selena to put his back to him.

She spun around without a word. letting the blue Spartan open her backpack up and rifle through its contents to withdraw four magazines of ammunition she had loaded over an hour earlier. Closing the bag back up once more, he offered the spare mags for Credence to take.

"One hundred and thirty-eight additional rounds," he informed him as the weathered, old veteran took the rounds without a moment's hesitation.

"Here's hoping I won't need 'em all," he said, forcing a small chuckle.

"I know how to use a gun too," Sherry said, making the Spartan shift his gaze to her.

"My husband um...showed me how to use a pistol..."

"Was your husband a cop?" Selena asked, pointing to the badge that hung around her neck.

"Yes..." she replied, "this was his..."

"What happened to him?"

"He went out before the attack and...I haven't seen him since..." Sherry gripped the badge in her left hand staring down at the floor.

"Spartan, do you think there's...any chance he might still be out there?"

Kyle looked at her for several moments, lost in thought. When she finally looked back up at him, he answered solemnly:

"Unlikely."

"I um...I understand..."

She felt a pistol grip being pressed into the palm of her hand, large armored fingers closing her fingers around the polymer.

"Keep your wits ma'am," he told her as sympathetically as he could, "there'll be another time to grieve."

"Yeah...yeah, you're right," she breathed, lifting Selena's Magnum up in her hands, "Thanks."

He answered her with a nod, then turned to Jason and David.

"What about you two?"

"I've shot skeet before but uh, nothing like what you're packin,'" Jason answered, looking over the weapons on the Spartan.

"I'll probably end up just wasting all your bullets."

"Copy that," Kyle acknowledged, turning instead to David.

"And you?"

"I swore to never hold a gun again, for no reason at all," David answered, giving him a hard look.

"The lives of your comrades depend on it," the Spartan urged him.

"And I said forget it," he persisted. As he continued, Sierra 096 noticed a thin chain slide up around his neck from underneath his shirt.

"There's no way I'm taking one of your- HEY!"

Kyle grabbed the chain and pulled it out of his shirt on a small hunch he had. Attached to it was a pair of dog tags, just as he had thought, which read:

 _Henderson, David H._

 _Cpl._

 _55347-22978-DH_

 _O NEG_

"You served the UNSC, but you deserted- didn't you?" the Captain asked, letting the tags fall out of his hand and against the outside of David's shirt for all to see.

"That's none of your business," he snarled.

"You're a traitor to the UNSC and humanity," Kyle declared coldly, "and I should execute you right now."

"If you do you'll be taking an unborn baby's father away," he said, voice falling quiet.

"I've killed plenty of fathers in my time," Kyle answered with an icy tone. David took a step back, blinking and gulping loudly.

"One less makes no difference to me."

"Please Spartan, don't hurt him!" Tania shouted out, rushing out of her chair to his side.

"He was just trying to be here for the baby! The war, it was getting so out of control-"

"Every serviceman knows the price of wearing a UNSC uniform," Sierra 096 said, drawing his Magnum from his thigh and pointing it straight at David's left eye.

"Once you make the commitment to defend Earth and her colonies the only way to leave is to serve your time- either by giving your life for humanity or living to see the end of your term. Just as millions of men and women have done before you." The safety to his Magnum clicked loudly.

"There is _no_ abandoning your post. You are a disgrace to the uniform, and a coward."

"You'll have to go through me then!" the pregnant woman shouted, clasping her whole body over the man and acting as a human shield.

Kyle pulled her off of him effortlessly with one swift fling off his left arm, making her shriek in protest as she tumbled noisily to the floor. He raised his Magnum once more, pressing the trigger steadily back.

"Captain, wait!"

The voice of his friend stayed his hand, making him release the trigger and slightly lower his sidearm. He felt a faint tug on his left arm, causing him to turn his head slowly to see Selena pulling it with all her strength to make him stop.

"He can still help! Even if he broke the law! Please, at least let them give him a fair trial when we get out of here!"

"They'll still execute him for abandoning his fellow brothers in arms during a war," the Spartan told her.

"You still can't just kill him in cold blood!" Selena pleaded.

"It's my duty to carry out and enforce the law of the United Nations," he insisted.

" _It's not right!"_

Kyle stared down at her matte black figure clinging to his side, desperately trying to cease his course of action. What she was asking him to do was against everything he had ever been taught. UNSC Marines, soldiers, crewman, ODSTs, Spartans- all of them lived under the same principles. The same rules, the same laws, the same code of conduct and discipline. Their protocols are what kept them strong, made them efficient; they were not to be abandoned or overlooked on a whim. Desertion was one of the most heinous offenses any serviceman could commit during. He could not just let this man walk away, However, Selena was his only friend, and her words carried great resonance with him. Perhaps there would be another time to deal with this traitor...

His eyes darted around the room beneath his visor, scanning each of the horrified faces of the people around him, and sighed loudly.

"Fine." He lowered his Magnum steadily, clamping it against his thigh once more.

"You live," he decreed in a low voice, then added in a voice as cold as the vacuum of space, "for now."

Reaching to his left, he unhooked the M7 SMG that hung above his hip and slid several magazines out of the belt that he had fastened across his chest. He took a step forward to make his overwhelming, towering presence abundantly apparent to the deserter, jamming the SMG and the magazines into his chest forcefully. It caused the man to stumble backwards a few feet.

"But you'll do what's expected of a soldier while I'm here. Is that clear, Corporal Henderson?"

David looked at the weapon thrust into his hands with great disdain and dread, then back at the Spartan. His only answer was a quiet nod.

"Good," Kyle said simply. The blue Spartan II raised his voice to address the group one last time:

"We're moving out. I want a single column moving down that sidewalk. Master Chief!"

"Sir!" Credence answered obediently.

"Take point. Lead us to your vehicle."

"Sir, yessir!" He swapped his rifle to his left hand and gripped it by the barrel, dropping the stock down to the floor next to his feet to quickly salute the officer.

"The rest of you stay sharp and call out any hostiles you see. And you-" Kyle pointed a large index finger at David, "you're bringing up the rear with me, _coward_."

 _2045 hours_

The small group of tired, irritable, and fear filled survivors ascended the stairs back out of the basement, hurriedly filing out of the house one by one. Credence was the first to exit, taking a swift, steady marching pace as he led the way. He kept his rifle slightly raised in case he had to bring it up fully for any engagements. His daughter followed closely behind, her borrowed Magnum gripped firmly with both hands and held with the barrel pointing skyward beside her head. Out came Donna next, keeping a good five feet between her and Sherry, a scowl still spread across her face from what she had done to her earlier despite the amount of dread she felt stepping out into the open. The pregnant woman, Tania, walked out next, a hand on her stomach to ease the nausea that was slowly creeping up on her with Jason in tow. He kept his hands in his pockets, flannel sleeves rolled up and sweat beading down his forehead. Right behind him was Selena, her only weapon clutched firmly to her chest and her helmeted head held high. In the darkness and fog she looked like a shadow moving across the foreground, only becoming completely visible when the column passed under a flickering streetlight. Bringing up the rear was David, just as ordered, with the Spartan next to him, making him look very small and weak by comparison.

"Do you really have to walk right next to me?" he asked, his displeasure evident, "I'm perfectly capable of walking in a straight line without a chaperone."

"Quiet deserter," Kyle ordered coldly.

"I have a name. You saw it on my tags," he growled at him lowly.

"Your name is Deserter. And you're only keeping those tags as proof to the Admiral that you abandoned your duties. Now keep up-" the Spartan pushed him forward forcibly with his left hand, noticing that he was leaving a large gap of space between him and Selena, "-keep your mouth shut, and your eyes and ears open."

"Why don't you take that stick out of your ass while you're at it?" he responded angrily, starting to raise his voice.

He looked ahead to see Credence glancing down the line back at him, mouthing the words: "Shut the Hell up!" The man leered back at him, tightening his hold on his SMG and quickening his pace.

About five yards down, Credence took a left at the end of the sidewalk at a four way intersection right at the edge of the line of townhouses. Parked in front of them beneath a dim spotlight shining from a streetlamp high above was a tiger-orange, four-wheel drive truck. It sat off the ground by about two feet, its tires covered in thick, dirt rending treads. Thin, superficial scratches spread out across the windshield along with the vehicle's paint job. Its four doors were tightly shut, marred with dents from bludgeoning blows of something that had attempted to force its way in. Mounted to the front grille was a tow cable, wound firmly in place with the hook held in place on top.

The old veteran hurriedly walked to the driver's side door on the left of his truck, taking a hand off his rifle to rummage through his pants' pockets for the key. Finding it with his fingers he thumbed the vehicle's unlock button without even withdrawing the remote device, causing all the doors to emit a small clicking sound. He turned back around to face the column of people who had stopped just a few feet away from him and the Spartan who stood closely by them.

"Orders, sir?" Credence asked dutifully, his rifle held at the ready.

"Take the wheel Chief," Kyle ordered him, "start it up and wait for us to pile in."

"Sir," he saluted quickly, pivoting on his heel and walking towards the orange truck.

He reached for the door and swung it wide open, stepping up inside it and settling down in the seat. As the engines hummed to life shortly thereafter the Spartan positioned himself to look over his weary group.

"Ms. Raine, Ms Tania, you two will take the front with the Petty Officer," he ordered, adding:

"Take the window seat Ms. Raine. Keep your weapon at the ready."

"Right," Sherry nodded, looking past Donna to the pregnant woman, "come on hun, let's go."

"Are you sure about putting me up in the front?" Tania answered nervously, giving no sign that she was going to move.

"Affirmative," Sierra 096 responded.

"I mean, I'd like to be with my boyfriend and-"

"I trust his ability to protect you and your child about as far as he is able to throw me ma'am," Kyle told her harshly. David stared at him as he finished speaking, seething.

"Why you motherfu-" he started to say.

"Now fall out."

"Come on," Sherry urged the woman, grabbing her hand and pulling her along.

"I can defend my own woman you son of a bitch," David snarled at him as he watched the blonde woman take his girlfriend away, starting to go after them. Without warning a rifle barrel was shoved against his forehead, halting his progress.

"Insubordination will not be tolerated, deserter," the Spartan said, voice cold as ice.

Behind them Sherry opened the front right side passenger door and hurried her companion inside, trying to keep her from watching the Spartan and the father of her child.

"Guess you'll just have to shoot me then fucker, cause I'm not letting you order me around."

"I'd love to," Kyle responded, much to the shock and dismay of everyone still gathered around them, "but a weapon's discharge out here will draw attention to our position."

"Looks like you've got no choice but to let me go then," David said, giving him the biggest shit-eating grin he could.

"Negative."

"'Negative?'" David spat at him, still smiling.

"What're you gonna do then, mother- THE FUCK!?"

With lightning speed Kyle clamped David's mouth shut with his left hand, slapping his rifle against his back with his right and swiftly punching the former Marine in the stomach. It was a weak blow for the Spartan, but to David it felt like he had just been hit by a twenty pound sledgehammer. He let out a muffled cry of pain, dropping his SMG and letting it clatter to the ground as he held his stomach. The Captain let go of him, allowing him to fall to his knees.

"Holy shit..." he groaned, tears swelling in his eyes as he started to cough.

"I think I understand why you left the service," Kyle said in a low voice as he looked down upon him.

"You weren't just a pacifist coward, you're incapable of respecting authority as well."

"Fuck you," he spat at him, still clutching his stomach and coughing.

"One more word of disobedience and you'll be coughing up your innards all over the asphalt."

Sierra 096 directed his view back to the remaining survivors who had been watching speechlessly.

"Ms. Donna, Mr. Jones," he began, gesturing with his right arm for them to move forward, "to the back. And take this man with you," he commanded, walking away from him as the two hurriedly did so.

"I'll get you for this," the former Corporal threatened between coughs.

"Dude, just shut up," Jason told him as he grabbed his right arm and draped it across his shoulders. Donna did the same on his left.

"You really don't get who you're fucking with here."

"I don't give a shit," David coughed, "I'll kill him as soon as we get out of here."

"The only one who'll be dead is you," Donna told him curtly, retrieving the fallen SMG from the ground and gingerly holding it in her left hand.

"And us if you don't keep your mouth shut," she added, "though honestly I couldn't care less if you lived or not right now. I'd rather just leave you here to die."

"Listen slut, I-"

"She's right man," Jason cut him off, "and I'm starting to agree with her too about leaving you. You're acting way too stupid for me."

"I thought you were my friend," he said accusingly.

"I am, that's why I'm carrying your dumbass and telling you right now that if you don't listen to giant metal man over there behind us you're gonna get killed."

"Why didn't you tell us you were in the UNSC anyway?" the woman asked as the three of them made it to the back of the truck. Tania had watched them the whole time, looking at her lover with great concern.

"It wasn't any of your business," David told her, his coughing lessening as the pain began to diminish. The spot where the Spartan had struck him was starting to feel numb however.

"Or you were just too ashamed to admit it," she replied scathingly.

Jason opened the truck door on the right behind where Sherry sat, helping Donna shove him up and inside the opening. Then the woman thrust the SMG into his chest without another word and closed the door as she hopped down. She followed JJ around the front of Credence's truck to the passenger door behind the driver's seat, letting the man get in first to sit in between her and his friend.

While the pair piled into the vehicle, Kyle directed his attention on his childhood friend. She stood watching the man and woman carry the ex-Marine away, absently turning her gaze to the Captain.

"Let's go ma'am, we're leaving."

"Where will you and I sit?" she asked, looking past him at the truck, its engine rumbling lowly.

"In the bed of the vehicle," he told her.

"Oh...I see..." Selena responded, less than thrilled.

"It won't be a long trip," the Spartan promised her.

"Yeah...I trust you, it's just..."

"Captain!" Credence called out, his head sticking out from his door window. The two armored individuals looked back at him simultaneously, Selena's words catching in her throat before she could continue.

"With all due respect sir, we really need you to get in now!"

"Acknowledged," Kyle said, facing Selena again and offering his hand for her to take.

"Fall out ma'am. I'll help you climb aboard."

"Yeah...um...sure," she shyly took his hand, feeling his fingers engulf her hand in a firm grip.

"You're not going to punch me if I say no, are you?" she asked, teasing a little.

"Never," he answered.

"Aren't you a sweetheart..." she replied softly as he led her past the right side of the orange truck and to the flatbed around the back.

"'Sweetheart?'" Kyle asked her, a hint of perplexion present in his voice.

"Yeah, sweetheart," Selena repeated.

Sierra 096 lowered the tailgate of the truck with one hand then grabbed Selena by her hips, making her squirm a little from embarrassment. With one fluid turn of his body he lifted her up off the ground sat her down on the tailgate, letting go of her as he began to lift his leg to step up into the bed next to her.

"I'm still not really used to being man-handled Captain," she groaned, feeling a small shiver go through her body.

"Tell me what that means," he requested, hopping up into the vehicle.

"What what mea- oh shit!"

The entire backend of the truck lowered by well over a foot and groaned in protest as the Spartan's full weight was brought to bear on its axles. Everyone inside the cabin turned around startled to see the Spartan standing at his full height behind them, the woman in the bed next to him clasping her matte black fingers to the side of the bed opening so tightly she could practically feel her knuckles turning white. Sierra 096 knelt down beside her, making the truck groan even more, grabbing her arm and gently sliding her off the tailgate in order to lift it back into position and close it.

"How much do you weigh?!" she asked bewildered.

"Approximately one thousand pounds," he said simply, closing the gate with one hand. It snapped into place loudly. Too loudly for his liking.

He laid back against the cabin to distribute his weight evenly across the flatbed, slinging his rifle off his back and over his shoulder as he did so, resting in his arms. The MJOLNIR armor clanged against the truck cabin, making David turn his head to see the blue backside of the Spartan II sitting right up against his section of the tinted rear window.

"What?" Selena blurted out wide-eyed.

"There's no way, you can't be that heavy..."

"Most of it is the armor," he admitted, turning his head to the right to peer inside the truck at its occupants.

"Chief, let's roll," he ordered.

"Keep a steady speed of approximately 96 kilometers an hour."

Donna turned around quickly as Kyle spoke, stopping Credence from answering immediately.

"Won't going that fast draw them to-"

 _ **"Ugggh..."**_

A distant, low, alien moan echoed out over the empty city, making the woman choke on her own words. Everyone turned wide-eyed and dead silent. None of them seemed to even breathe. After ten seconds of long, horror filled silence, Donna made a loud gulp, trembling as she finished her sentence.

"Us..."

The safety of Kyle's rifle made a loud click as he thumbed it towards the full auto setting. Bright blue lights flared to life on the MA5's screen, displaying a small compass situated at the top of the weapon as well as large arabic numerals reading: _45_. A large icon of a rifle round sat below the ammo counter. The holographic site on the weapon glowed with a faint scarlet in the dark and a crackling noise permeated the air. Gold sparks sprung up all over the Spartan's blue and silvery gore covered armor, engulfing him in a glowing aura that blanketed him from head to toe. Then it disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

"They already know," Kyle said in a tone as hard as his titanium armor.

"Do you know the way Chief?"

"Ye-yes sir," Credence said shakily.

"Move out," he ordered, raising his rifle up.

 _ **"Uggggggggh..."**_

The moan was louder this time, seeming to be joined by several others. Selena squinted through the fog and dark, sliding back to sit next to the Spartan for safety. She could have swore she saw something leap down from a building about a hundred meters away. Her heart began to hammer away inside her chest as she clutched her weapon tight against her breastplate.

"Aye, aye sir," the Chief acknowledged.

Without further hesitation the old man gripped the gear shift with his leathery right hand he stomped down on the clutch and brake together. He shifted the machine into first gear, releasing the clutch and brake simultaneously and dropping a lead foot down onto the accelerator. The truck's hydrogen engine roared like a jungle cat as Raine swung the wheel around counter-clockwise, making the four-wheel drive glide across the asphalt. Dirt and grime were shot into the air by the tires' treads behind them, casting it in a messy trail as the group steadily moved onward. Bright rays beamed forth from the fleeing vehicle, casting light over the battered road before them. Metal creaked in protest from the Spartan II's weight as the wheels turned with such urgency they seemed to be filled with the same dread that clutched the hearts of every man and woman present. But not the Spartan. All he could feel was hatred. Blood boiling, adrenaline inducing, intense hatred.

 _You won't take them._

" _ **AHHHHHHHHH!"**_

The hunger. The grotesqueness. The insatiable, never ending need to consume. It cried out for their blood. Their bones. Their flesh. Spine rattling, heart stopping shrieks of lives damned to walk forever as slaves to the foulest of masters to ever be. Kyle's fingers clenched his rifle so tightly that even one wrong move would snap the firearm in half.

 _Not like the others._

Raine shifted the gears once more, making the engine roar furiously. On the dashboard his digital speedometer rose without pause:

 _45 km/h. 46 km/h. 47, 48, 49..._

"Can't this thing go any faster!?" Donna cried shrilly.

"I'm shifting gears as fast as I can without grinding the damn things!" the Master Chief shouted.

"Would it help if I got out and pushed this tin can!?" Jason yelled, leaning away from the rear window to give the Chief a wild-eyed look.

"Hell no! Don't you dare open those fuckin' doors asshole!" Sherry berated him immediately.

Hands shaking in trepidation she held her Magnum against the window, watching dark silhouettes leap and bound across rooftops through the putrid fog. Tears started to swell in her grey eyes as her thoughts shifted to her dead husband, how he may be coming for them right now to maim and butcher them like all the others had done to friends and family she had used to know.

"Please hurry mister..." Tania pleaded beside her, choking back a sob.

"Don't let them hurt my baby..."

 _59, 60, 61..._

 _ **"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"**_

 __"Please!" the mother cried desperately, holding onto his right arm.

"I'm going as fast as I can! This truck wasn't built for speed!" Credence defended himself.

Kyle knew the Flood wouldn't catch up to them. Not yet. As long as these people could hold it together long enough to make it out of the city limits where the Flood had thousands of places to advance, hide, and flank them, they would survive. They would. They _will_.

 _I won't let you touch them. Never._

The Captain gritted his teeth and raised his rifle a little higher from where he sat sprawled out inside the flatbed, watching the dusty trail that violently kicked up behind them. His motion tracker was rimmed with scarlet, slowly bleeding into the center from the uppermost edges of the rounded radar. Shifting his helmeted head to the right he glanced at Selena, who was nearly sitting right on top of him. Her vitals had shot up dramatically, heartbeat hammering away like a scared rabbit's at nearly two hundred and ten beats per minute, blood pressure climbing at one hundred and fifty-five over ninety-nine. Respiratory rates were inconsistent and jumpy, going between thirty-five and forty-seven, the woman's body temperature rising to a feverish thirty-eight and a half degrees celsius.

Kyle took his right hand off his rifle's enclosed grip and gently patted Selena's forearm. Her breath rasped from her helmet's filter.

"Easy," he said softly as the truck continued to roll ever forward, accelerating without pause.

"Control your breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth."

"I...I'm...I'm trying," she gasped, letting go of her M7 to hold his massive hand. She squeezed it as tightly as she could, breathing slowly and deliberately.

"Sorry if this hurts, I'm just...just..." she exhaled heavily, the world seeming to spin around her as she sat there with the blue Spartan aboard the racing hydrogen fueled machine.

"You can't hurt me ma'am," he reassured her.

"Thank Christ, because I need this."

Her armor clad fingers hugged his hand so tightly she could feel the blood pumping through each individual digit.

"Tell me what you're going to do once we get off Emerald Cove," Kyle said in the most soothing voice he could muster.

"So much shit..." Selena breathed, wrapping her other hand over the Spartan's just as tightly as the first, locking it in a strangle hold.

"I'm going to donate every year to the soldiers in need and their families, help the ones who've lost people that were serving, support the ones still alive and well, finish school, get a better job...but the first thing I'm going to do is drink red wine like water until I can't stand."

Kyle just sat silently, letting her keep her death grip on his right hand while she continued to attempt to relax her respiration.

"And I want you there with me too."

The Spartan tilted his head down at the woman while she sat staring down the road, the engine roaring behind them, the wheels relentlessly turning below.

"I want you there so I can take your helmet off and give you the biggest kiss any woman will ever give you."

Again, nothing but quiet, friendly silence from Sierra 096. She started to sniffle, and went on:

"And make you hold me and promise me I'll never have to be afraid of the dark again like I am now..."

Selena let go of the Spartan's hand and wrapped her arms around his stomach, pressing her body against his weapons and pouches in the closest hug she could manage while encased in titanium armor. She fought back the tears, blinking them away furiously.

"It's all I want right now...for the nightmare to end..."

Kyle laid his hand atop her helmet and patted it gently, trying not to be too awkward or uncomfortable during her moment. He couldn't help but feel like there was something more he could do, but for now, it was the best he was able to muster.

"There's so much more beyond the life they made you live Captain," she whispered between sniffles, "I want to show you that life doesn't always have to be about risking your life everyday for people like me. There's a whole galaxy out there waiting for you to see it, to take in its beauty."

She pressed her cheek to his chestplate, closing her eyes as she thought back to everything he had told her.

"And I want to be the one to show you..."

Absolutely dumbfounded, Kyle stared at his friend, blinking once. Another shriek pierced the night, making Selena clasp herself around him even more tightly. He put a hand gingerly on the back of her head and held it there. He watched the line of decimated buildings hurriedly pass by, going so quickly that they appeared to be nothing but looming piles of rubble the further down they went.

"You don't have to say anything...I know it must sound silly to you..." she said in a soft, sad voice.

Kyle listened for several moments to the constant hum of the engine and the erratic shrieks and moans of the Flood pursuing them from every corner of his former home, then spoke:

"No."

Selena lifted herself off of him and grasped his arms, looking up into his gold visor.

"It doesn't sound silly to me."

"Spartan..."

Sierra 096 lowered his gaze to meet her's. She seemed to stare into his eyes, making him want to fidget and look away immediately. He forced himself to fight the urge.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" he asked, confused.

"For giving me a chance."

"A chance?"

"To help you see that you don't have to be bitter and cold forever."

Kyle responded with a quiet stare, then nodded solemnly.

Just as Selena had brought herself closer to snuggle against the Spartan she felt him forcefully shrug her off to sit up, getting on one knee quickly and raising his rifle.

"Ow! Hey, what's wro-?"

 _ **RATATATATA!**_

 __Rifle round casings flew from the MA5's ejector, pelting Selena's armor and impacting against the truck bed. She recoiled and backed away in surprise, reaching up to cover her ears to block out the rifle fire. The Beta-5 helmet however muffled the noise by the time her hands had reached her head, making the attempt to shield her eardrums redundant. Lowering her arms her eyes darted out towards where Sierra 096 was shooting. About twenty meters away and rapidly falling back was a mangled Flood combat form, tumbling end over end on the asphalt with blood and pus spewing out of it. She could hear its pained moans trail off behind them. Then a new, piercing cry forced her to snap her head away from the shrinking corpse.

 _ **"AGGGGH!"**_

 __Another monster leapt down from the passing buildings on the pair's left, tentacles extended and reaching for the Spartan's neck. Five armor piercing rounds cut through the airborne combat form, embedding themselves in its mutated flesh and making its body flinch. The living corpse's momentum could not be stopped by mere gunfire however and it continued on its collision course with the Captain. The Flood form stretched both its arms out desperately as it closed the distance rapidly, only to be met with a titanium elbow brutally impacting against its torso. Arms and legs flailing it careened backward, bouncing on the pavement twice and rolling in an even, zig-zag pattern as the orange truck sped away. Through the fog dozens upon dozens of combat forms burst forth, moaning and howling in their unearthly, incoherent voices. They ran over their fallen comrade without the slightest regard and raced after the fleeing civilians, stumbling over themselves as their feet pounded against the blacktop clumsily.

Selena pressed her back firmly against the truck's cabin, right hand gripping the lip of the bed tightly while she stared after the monster that Kyle had bashed away.

"Jesus Christ, that was too close!" she exclaimed.

Kyle's rifle loosed another quick burst of fire, permeating the air with the smell of carbon. His aim was unnaturally steady and precise while the vehicle bounced and jerked about, the driver avoiding large masses of debris and other obstacles as best he could. From the other side of the rear view windows all the occupants except for Credence turned to watch Sierra 096 continuously fire, brass casings clanging against the bed he was hunkered down in. The shrieks and cries of the Flood terrified them all, but just as quickly as they filled the air they were followed by a relentless burst of the _ratatata!_ of the MA5.

Just as the sound was beginning to comfort them, something large banged against the passenger side of the truck. It made the machine veer off to the left sharply and run over a wide stretch of rubble, jarring everyone except for Kyle who turned around just as sharply as the truck had swerved.

Sherry screamed so loudly that the other five people sitting inside jumped.

"Get it off me!"

A Flood combat form hung onto her door, wildly flailing its bone-blade inside. Tania let out a blood curdling cry and pressed herself as closely to Credence as she could, bumping his arms and causing him to jostle the wheel just as he was turning to the right.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelled furiously as he desperately fought to regain control.

"Shoot the fucking thing!" Jason shouted, watching helplessly.

"I- AHHHHHH!"

The Flood monster raked its blade across Sherry's knuckles when she raised her Magnum to fire, making her drop it on the floorboard and clench her bloodied hand against her chest. Putrid tentacles shot forth inside, reaching for her neck. David stood up as best he could and raised his SMG over Sherry's headrest.

"Shoot David!" Tania shrieked, "Shoot it!"

"I'm trying!" he yelled in response, firing at the creature's tentacles.

Fifteen rounds spurted out of the small weapon, nearly grazing the woman's face and most missing their mark because of the erratic moving machine they were inside. The projectiles filled the glove box with over a dozen holes and sprayed up dust into Sherry's face. Only one bullet found its mark, hitting one of the outstretched tentacles and making the monster recoil for a second.

" _ **Uggggggggggh!"**_ its alien voice moaned irritatedly. It began to tear the door off its hinges when it was stopped suddenly by:

 _ **Bam! Bam! Bam!**_

Yellow, green, and scarlet splashed over the blonde woman and the Flood released its grip on her door, falling off underneath the truck. The whole frame bounded up violently as the rear wheels ran overtop of it. Everyone inside moved to see the Spartan II leaning over the side of the bed in the act of sliding the magazine out of his Magnum to slot in three replacement rounds. Hurriedly he slammed it against his thigh and reequipped himself with his spent MA5 rifle, popping its mag out of the stock and slamming in a new one from his left chest pouch. The metal clicked and clanged and the charging handle flew forward once his finger released it from its locked position.

Kyle repositioned himself to face back out towards the road, beginning the steady stream of retaliatory fire once more. Sherry was still trying to catch her breath, putting a hand over her heart and gasping.

"Goddamn...that...oh my God..." she sighed, then said:

"Could your aim be any worse!? You nearly took my head off!"

"You try firing this damn thing then!" he yelled back, "It kicks like a fucking horse!"

"I thought you were supposed to be a Marine," Donna chimed in disgustedly.

"You wanna use this?" David thrust the SMG out for her to take, scowling.

"Go right ahead, be my gues-"

" _ **AGGGGGGH!"**_

 _ **RATATATA!**_

A mutated, deformed body fell against the bed of the truck behind them, slamming against the rear window. Blood and pus smeared all over the glass; a fear stricken, molted face pressed flat to it. Donna and Jason stared into the yellowed whites of its eyes, blood vessels bright red and highly pronounced. Its teeth were just as yellow as its eyes, bared and covered with ugly stains. A bulbous, balloon shaped organism protruded from the person's chest cavity, making it swell up into a hump and displace the head and neck from their normal position atop the torso. Tattered, faded clothes clung to its flesh, unrecognizable and indiscernible.

Outside it began to get back on its feet, only to be met with the punishing force of more bullets. The ballistics severed its legs at the knees, making it fall again and forcing it to crawl. Kyle grabbed it by its liquified, disjointed neck and flung it out of the bed with all his might. Cutting through the air like a frisbee it collided with another Flood combatant that was not far behind them, both tumbling to the ground in a mangled heap. Selena sat rooted to her spot, watching motionlessly as Kyle kept fighting on silently.

"Why don't you do something?!" Donna yelled at her from behind, making her snap her head to the side.

"You have a gun and armor for a reason, help him!"

"Um..." Selena shakily fumbled with her sound suppressed submachine gun, holding it against her chest once her fingers found their place on its grips.

"Right..."

Slowly she leaned forward and swiveled her legs around beneath her, getting on one knee in a kneeling position like the Captain. The woman made her way to the Spartan's right side, raising her weapon up and nervously pressing her thumb to the safety switch just as she had been taught.

"I um...I'm here to help," she told Sierra 096, waiting for him to say something. Continuing to fire, he said:

"Fire on all hostiles within a hundred meters downrange in quick bursts. Aim for center mass or their legs," he ordered her in a cool, low voice.

"Alright..." Selena breathed.

Pressing the cheek of her helmet against the top of the gun she closed her left eye, attempting to keep her aim as steady as she could while she peered through the weapon's red sight. With the tiny dot in the center she saw the small, dark form of a Flood monster rampantly running to them like a wild animal. Its arms flailed behind it as it leaped and bound erratically.

"How do I um...zoom in closer?"

"There's a small button on the left side of the sight," Kyle said, letting a quick four round burst loose. The loud report of the exiting rounds was followed by a distant, angry wale.

The woman took her left hand off the foregrip and pushed her thumb to the top of the gun, feeling for the small button. Just as she was about to press it, she was pushed aside forcibly.

"What the-?"

Ten rounds streamed out from the MA5's muzzle into a pouncing Flood monster that had been several meters away from colliding with her. It crashed into the Spartan lifelessly, making him slide back two feet as he began to stand to throw the thing off the side. Jerking back to life it bashed his cheek with its blade, tearing a long strip of navy blue paint away to reveal the bare titanium. Kyle realed from the blow and jabbed his left fist into it in retaliation, firmly holding onto his rifle with his right. He swung it up to fire point blank into its chest where the parasite was embedded, but it had risen quickly and evaded. It swung its tentacled left arm against the Spartan's other cheek and made him topple to the side, nearly falling out and causing the truck to lean with the shift in weight. Kyle gasped with surprise and held fast to the bed's lip, shields glowy irritably and swinging his rifle over his back to regain his footing.

The Flood combat form turned on Selena without pause, who was still on her back from where the Spartan had shoved her out of the way. The bone-blade raised high over its head, arcing down over her to cleave her in half.

" _AHHHHHHH!_ " she squeezed the trigger and shut her eyes tight.

" _ **UGGGGGGGH!"**_

Thirty rounds quietly cut through its body and severed its arm at the elbow, making it thud against the steel bed. The SMG shook in the woman's tight grip, bullets spraying down the beast like a garden hose. Angrily it snatched her up without stopping and held her aloft by its deformed hand, steady streams of pus filled crimson running down all over its torso from dozens of holes. The parasite's tendrils reached out for her, scratching her breast plate. The tentacles protruding from its forearm began to close around her neck to strangle the woman. Completely horrified and gasping she kept the M7 pointed at the thing, squeezing the trigger as hard as she could. The only thing that came out of the weapon was a small, pitiful click. Dead eyes stared into her visor, a low, raspy moan breathing over her visor as the fringes of her vision began to blacken.

"Hel...help...me... _AGH_!"

Her matte black armor clanged against the truck with a thud as she collapsed, SMG clattering down away from her. The Flood monster was on its back next to her, wailing in a voice that wasn't its own and attempted to stand again.

 _ **BAM!**_

 __A noise like the crack of thunder put the thing down once more, abruptly silencing it. Blood pooled beneath it and mottled, green epidermis hung over it in messy strings from the large hole now gaping wide open in the center of its chest. Selena's eyes darted up to see Kyle standing over the corpse, shotgun in his hands.

 _ **Click-click**_

 __A bright red shell fell to his feet as he pumped the weapon, a thin wispy trail of smoke emanating from inside its hollowed innards. Selena gasped and heaved, clutching her throat with her hands. Before she could start to form a word another Flood combatant landed inside the bed next to her. A scream couldn't even escape her mouth, so terrified and out of breath she was that all she could manage was a pitiful whimper.

Kyle was ready for it, blasting it in the heart mercilessly. Arms and legs trailing out behind it the enslaved person struck the side of a flower shop, smashing against broken pots and vases set up outside and scattering the wilted flowers everywhere. The wall spanning glass of its forward facing window shattered spectacularly and shards flew all about.

 _ **Click-click**_

The Captain thumbed the safety while the second shell fell. His fingers let go of the gun, allowing it to hang from his chest as he knelt back down to look over Selena. An arm wrapped around her and sat her up steadily.

"Can you see? How many fingers am I holding up?" Kyle held up three fingers on his left hand, looking over her intently. She breathed heavily for several moments, weakly raising her head to look up.

"Thr...thr...three.."

"Stay down ma'am," he ordered, hurriedly sliding her to sit up against the cabin. Grabbing the empty SMG off the bed he pressed it into her feeble hands, pulling the charging handle back and popping the empty mag out, then taking a fresh one off her belt.

"Just breathe for now, you'll be fine."

He slid the new mag in for her, pushing the charging handle forward again and switching the safety back on.

"How did I..." she started to say in between breaths, chest heaving. Kyle took his hands off the freshly loaded weapon and tilted his head, waiting patiently.

"How did I do...for my first time?"

Despite everything, she managed a weak smile and laughed softly. The Spartan quietly answered:

"You did well, ma'am," he put a hand on her cheek and nodded somberly, "you did well."

 _2110 hours_

The hydrogen powered truck barreled out of the city limits and onto the highway ten minutes later than what usually would have been predicted under perfect conditions, still being trailed by a relentless horde of corpse monsters. With a window of fifty minutes for the Pelican to extract them however, Kyle was not concerned with the added time. Everyone under his care was still alive and the Flood, while tenacious and unyielding, were far enough behind now that they would have some time to catch their breath once they made it out to the clearing. Albeit very, very precious time. By his predictions Sierra 096 figured they would only have ten minutes of peace before the entirety of the Flood within Adros were upon them. If they surrounded them before the dropship arrived, they would all surely perish.

The Captain stayed crouched in the middle of the steel bed with his rifle trained downrange motionlessly, watching for even the slightest hint of pursuers. His knees and thighs were still coated in the fresh blood and pulp from the Flood that had tried to strangle his friend and infect her. Behind him Selena sat very still where he had left her, Donna and the others looking back at her several times and attempting to get her to speak.

They had watched everything that had unfolded, too afraid to use the weapons that the Spartan had given them. It would seem they were as useless in a firefight as Kyle had expected they would be. All except for the veteran, that is. He was the only one able to hold it completely together and keep the truck's four wheels on the ground the entire time. For that, Sierra 096 was grateful. Once he was back on board with the Admiral, he would take the man to him personally and recommend he be given a medal for his unwavering valor. It was the very least he could do for a fellow Navy Man.

Several kilometers down the highway Credence drove the truck off the cracked asphalt and into the patchy greenery, laying on the accelerator a bit to rise up over a small hill. Once on top of it he began to downshift, gently coasting along to conserve his last bit of fuel.

"Captain!" he yelled out from his window. Not breaking his statue like stance, Kyle responded:.

"Go ahead petty officer."

"We're almost at the LZ! Running on our last bit of fuel now- we'll be out in a few minutes."

"Acknowledged. Excellent wheelman skills Raine," the Spartan praised, voice slightly amplified by the transmitters in his Mk VI.

"Thank you sir!" he proudly answered, grinning briefly.

"Won't they catch us while we're waiting for your ship to get here?" Jason's muffled voice asked through the rear window.

"Yes," Kyle answered, "we'll have approximately ten minutes before they arrive at the speed they're traveling."

"So we've got ten minutes, or we're fucked?..."

"No. We stand our ground and fight until the dropship touches down."

"Basically, we're fucked," Jason insisted, earning a very irritated glare from Sherry in the front seat.

"What?" he asked defensively, "We kind of are."

"Dammit boy would you just shut up," Credence growled as his truck began to crawl to a stop.

"We don't need that kind of talk right now."

"Dude, did you see how many were following us? How many got onto this thing and tried to kill us? One of them got damn close to it too!" Jason retaliated.

"Silence," Kyle's cold voice said from behind him.

Jason turned his head around to look at the hunkered down Spartan's back while he continued:

"One more word and you'll earn a punch to your stomach like your deserter friend."

Almost immediately the portly man became tight lipped. Beside him Donna laughed once and cracked an amused smirk. To his right David mumbled under his breath, something along the lines of: "I'm really going to kill this guy..."

Finally the wheels of the vehicle came to a gentle halt, leaving it totally exposed in the middle of a large clearing with the highway at least two kilometers away from their left. Sierra 096 rose to his full height and lowered his rifle, slowly pivoting his head from left to right to scan the open terrain with scrutinizing eyes. There was almost no fog out this far away from Adros and the moon managed to shine dully through the open patches of a thick blanket of clouds. Several crickets chirped from hidden areas on the field, breaking the otherwise absolute silence.

"Do we um..." Tania started, nervously glancing over her shoulder. The Spartan didn't seem to have heard her.

"You might want to speak up hun," Sherry told her, opening the glove box with her unscathed hand and rummaging through it for the first aid kit her father kept in it.

"Sorry," she said.

Tania watched her open the small plastic box and begin to clean her cut-open right hand with a strong smelling alcohol wipe. She gritted her teeth and hissed as she did, letting the blood covered paper cloth fall down to the floorboard. Then she took a large spool of beige colored adhesive bandages, tightly wrapping it over the top of her hand and around her palm. The woman did this three times, making sure to loop the bandage inside the space between her thumb and forefinger. Just as she was finishing and about to cut the excess off Tania spoke again, louder this time:

"Captain, sir? Excuse me for a minute please."

"What is it ma'am?" Kyle asked. He spun around and got back down on one knee, resting a hand on top of the cabin to peer through the glass at her, rifle resting on his raised knee plate.

"Are we staying in here to wait or...or are we um...getting out?"

"Stay where you are until instructed otherwise ma'am."

"Okay," she sighed with relief, trying to manage a smile.

"Thanks."

"Save your gratitude for when we're off world ma'am," he replied somberly, taking his hand away and getting up again.

She stared after him as he jumped off the vehicle, making the suspension creak from the sudden absence of his weight. It jostled and rocked everyone inside, making them grab a hold of whatever was close by out of surprise to keep themselves steady.

"I thought trucks were able to carry stuff that weighs a thousand pounds," David grumbled agitatedly.

"They can," Credence said, "that's why we got here just fine."

"'Just fine' huh?" he laughed, "Yeah, alright. Anyway if that was the case how come this thing shakes and rocks whenever that guy gets on or off?"

"This is a very old truck, that's why. The years have not been kind to my old girl."

"Should have traded it in," he mumbled.

"Never! I've had my baby since before you were born boy," the veteran proclaimed.

"It's going to be a shame to let her go after this..."

Kyle unequipped his rifle and reached into his thigh pack. He produced a single, skinny metallic canister marked with three red, horizontal stripes near the top. The soldier slapped the bottom end of the flare against his thigh then twisted the top off with his right hand, causing a brilliant red light to spark out. Tossing it down smoke from the tiny fire plumed upwards as it rolled away several feet, bright pinkish embers raining down on the earth.

"Spartan."

In the act of grabbing his rifle Selena's soft, filtered voice made him shift to face her. She had managed to crawl out of her slumped position and was sitting next to the tailgate, holding out her hands from him to grab.

"Can you help me down please?"

"You don't have to get out ma'am," he told her.

"I know, but I want to," she replied.

"Aren't you afraid?" Kyle tilted his head slightly.

"Very. But I'd rather stand with you."

"Hm..." he mused for a brief moment.

His rifle fell to his right side as he reached over the tailgate and wrapped his arm around her waist, her hands clinging on to the back of his helmet as he lifted her up and over. With her feet firmly planted on the ground the Spartan let go of the woman, her own grip gently sliding off of him.

"No more protests to me picking you up ma'am?" Kyle asked.

"As long as it's you, I think I can live with it," she answered flirtatiously.

"Copy that," he said, gripping his weapon with both hands again and assuming a guard-like position at the rear of the vehicle. Remembering what he was carrying all of a sudden he took his left hand off his MA5 once more to dig into his front belt pouch, retrieving a small folded picture.

"Here."

The Spartan bent his arm across his chest to the right, out towards her. Gingerly she grabbed the worn piece of paper and unfolded it to stare down at the faces of her younger self, her best friend, and his two parents. She smiled and looked back at the Spartan.

"Thank you for keeping it this whole time."

"Acknowledged," the Spartan answered unemotionally.

"It may not matter much to you," Selena said, "but it means a lot to me."

"I know."

"You remind me of him, you know?"

Kyle spun his head to the right abruptly as she spoke.

"You're just...quiet and um...kind..."

"Kind?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you are," she said with certainty, glancing up at him while he continued to watch her.

"Copy that," he said flatly, turning away once more. Selena sighed heavily and folded her old photo back up, tucking it away carefully in one of her front belt pouches.

"How long have we been waiting?"

"Approximately five and a half minutes ma'am."

"I hope they get here soon," she said softly, taking hold of her M7 impatiently.

Beside her Kyle clicked his rifle's safety off and on rhythmically, glancing at his clock.

 _2116_

They had less than four minutes before the Flood would inevitably enter the LZ and attempt to overwhelm and subdue them. He could feel himself growing more anxious by the minute, but he had to keep a tight lid on his own feelings to not panic the group with him. Unrest and discord among the ranks now would only spell doom for their escape.

Looking skyward the Spartan scanned the cloudy, tar black horizon for the slightest hint of an approaching aircraft. After several moments he willed his Mk VI helmet to enhance his vision through the neural implant sunk into the base of his skull. The HUD shrunk as the lines of his visor enlarged and zoomed his vision in by a hundred and fifty meters. His eyes blinked once and a small smile spread over his mouth.

The faint shape of a Pelican dropship with its bright spotlights shining and appearing like pinpricks through the darkness was fast on approach, steadily decelerating from a speed of about three hundred kilometers an hour.

"Everyone out of the vehicle, now," Kyle commanded, making everyone inside the cabin jump in a surprised commotion.

"Pelican on approach, get ready to board."

As the men and women scrambled out of the fuel depleted truck they gazed up at the darkened sky with Kyle and Selena, some of them shouting in relief and waving their hands. The D77H-TCI steadily lowered its elevation, angular nose pointed directly at the blazing red of the signal flare near the gathered survivors. Gradually it became larger and larger, the forward facing glass canopy of the cockpit catching the faint light of the moon and shimmering in the darkness. A large haze followed it, immense heat coming from its four thrusters built into its stout wings and the two aft nacelles on the tail.

The group's feeling of respite was short lived however; small arms fire began to pelt the Pelican's underbelly from below, forcing it to list sharply to the right. The dropship took a wide berth, circling around their LZ to avoid the fire.

"Something's not right," Kyle said, clicking the safety of his rifle off one last time.

"What?" Sherry asked.

"What's wrong?"

"They're not returning fire," Credence said with dread in his voice.

"And they're avoiding weapons fire that shouldn't be damaging them," the Spartan added, readying his weapon and watching the Pelican circle around from the corner of his visor.

The ship was so close he could hear the faint roar of its engines carrying it through the air. A faint crackle of white noise came over Kyle's helmet:

" _Sierra zero-niner-six...Pelican Omega one-...-six, we've...heavy fire from atmospheric insertion!...weapons...depleted...engine two...heavy damage...move to...LZ...a hundred meters...current position..."_

"Pelican, this is Sierra zero-niner-six," Kyle said aloud for all to hear, "you're breaking up by I read. Moving to new LZ a hundred meters north of current position. Over."

Selena stared at him fearfully with all the others, clutching the SMG tight to her breastplate. Credence shakily held his MA5D, waiting for the Spartan's orders.

"I always thought these days were behind me sir..." he gulped.

"Sprint with everything you've got," he pointed out towards the open field ahead of them, tall and imposing among the group of haggard, sleep deprived, malnourished people. He knew from the fading light in their eyes that this was all any of them had left in them to go. But if they didn't push themselves now, there would be no tomorrow for any of them.

"And don't stop."

The group of seven ran for all they were worth, the Pelican hovering just meters away. Wind gusted beneath it, bright blue flames flaring out steadily through the haze they emanated. Thick black smoke poured out of the portside wing like blood gushing from a stab wound. The craft's drab green plating was riddled with bullet holes and dents, the undercarriage scorched with black abrasions. The troop bay opened, releasing a dull red glow out from the distance. Two marines scrambled out from either side of the fast lowering boarding ramp, hunkering down opposite each other and training MA5Ds downrange at the group of mad-dashing survivors. They were about to open fire until they saw their navy blue Spartan II racing towards the LZ, passing by all the runners so quickly that they couldn't distinguish his form.

"Hold your fire marines!" he shouted, stopping abruptly before them and raising his hands.

"Sir, we were told only to expect you," the marine to his left said, lowering his rifle and standing at attention.

"What's going on Captain?" the other asked.

"There's been a change in orders men, we're taking these people off world as originally planned."

"Those orders came from the Admiral himself Captain."

Two more marines stepped out onto the end of the bay where the incline met the interior. Their dark, matte green armor was barely discernable through the shadows and the dim scarlet light.

"Gunnery Sergeant Cohen, sir," the marine to Kyle's left continued, saluting quickly.

"No disrespect to your authority sir, but we're only here for you."

"Rescind that order sergeant," the Spartan responded as the survivors finally caught up. They stopped behind him, huffing and breathing heavily.

"With all due respect Captain," the marine on right spoke, "we can't-"

" _ **AGGGGGH!"**_

Bullets pelted the starboard wing of the pelican in a messy, scattered grouping.

"Hostiles closing at one-five-zero!" the marine on the left of the boarding ramp called out, squeezing the trigger of his MA5.

The sound of automatic fire that close to their ears without protection made the survivors clamp their ears and hunch over, gritting their teeth. To the right the second marine combined his fire with his fellow rifleman. Their collaborative streams of fire cut down the approaching Flood who were armed with the weapons of fallen soldiers and law enforcement personnel. Clumsily the parasites brandished their firearms and attempted to retaliate, only to be felled by high velocity, full metal jacket rounds.

"Come on sir, we need to get you on board now," Cohen insisted urgently, taking up his own weapon and holding it across his chest.

"Get the civilians on first," Sierra 096 replied in a hard tone.

"What's going on?" Tania asked fearfully.

"Yeah what gives, I thought we were getting out of here!" Jason shouted over a burst of gunfire.

"Typical marines," David spat, "they're all worthless-"

"Cover me, reloading!" the crouching marine to the left shouted.

"Copy that, covering fire!"

The rifleman to the Gunnery Sergeant's right hopped off the Pelican and pushed Donna and Tania out of the way, who were standing at the forefront behind the Spartan.. Hot lead spewed from the muzzle of his raised rifle and made the two women reel from the din. A Flood soldier caught the rounds with its thighs, toppling out of its frantic advance. In the distance a wet, guttural roar objected to the serviceman's assault.

"Sierra zero-niner-six, sir, we don't have time for this!" Cohen pleaded, "Please, get on board or we're going to-"

Kyle grabbed the Gunnery Sergeant by the neck, dragging him briskly off the dropship and holding him near his visor. The marine was utterly shocked and almost lost his grip on his weapon.

"Are you questioning the orders of a superior officer?" he growled at him, making the man's eyes widen in response as he went on:

"A _Spartan's_ orders?"

"N-n-no sir."

Kyle dropped him on the ramp, making his boots clunk against the titanium. Turning to face the gathered men and women, he gestured with his right arm in an upward sweeping motion for them to board.

"Double time, move," the Captain commanded.

Not needing to be told twice, the civilians rushed inside. Gunnery Sergeant Cohen directed them towards the furthest seats adjacent to the entrance of the cockpit. Ten seats lined the hull, five on either side. Metal safety restraints hung rigidly above each, bent at an angle to hold a sitting passenger in place once lowered. The seats themselves were grey but appeared to be black in the dim red lights of the dropship's interior. David was the first to sit, taking the spot closest to the cockpit on the starboard side. Beside him sat Credence and after him, his daughter. On the port side was Tania, Donna, then Jason.

"Hurry, strap in!" Cohen ushered them, rubbing his neck once and gritting his teeth.

"Restraints pulled over your heads now!"

While the people piled into the D77H chaotically Kyle joined the marines in firing on the advancing Flood. Selena hurriedly ascended the incline behind him, being the last to step on, turning around and stopping to aim her SMG up and fire with them. She managed to hit one despite the rounds going wide around her target, making it stumble over a bit and flail its chest tendrils.

"Don't worry about firing ma'am, get in," he ordered her, continuing to pour out lethal projectiles. The Flood was relentless, new bodies taking the place of ones that fell at the front line and others rising up again, refusing to die.

"But I-!"

"AHHHHHHH!"

Over a half dozen monsters had advanced close enough to enter melee range, forcing the marine to the right of the ramp to go full auto. Catching him in the act of reloading one Flood had leapt out over the last few meters, clearing its felled comrades and slashing down at him. A jagged swathe was cut through his armor, making blood seep out over the metal and fatigues beneath it. The man fell backwards and momentarily ceased his fire, giving the Flood an opening to finish him off. Unfortunately for it its opportunity to do so was short-lived.

Kyle brought his right elbow up and rammed it hard against the parasite embedded in the corpse's chest, splattering pus laden crimson over his upper arm. The tendrils went limp and the body stiffened, twitching as it thudded against the wilting grass. A few drops of the liquid rained down on the injured marine.

"Get him in there," Sierra 096 instructed the marines calmly, standing over the man and resuming fire.

"I've got you," the rifleman that had disembarked the Pelican last reassured his bleeding brother-in-arms.

Just as he was reaching to grab under the man's arm to drag him up an infection form sprang out from the molted skin of the downed body lying several feet away, wrapping its tendrils around the marine's neck and prying its thin crimson tentacles into his chest plate. He let go of the wounded man and tried to rip the balloon-like creature off.

"GET IT OFF ME!" he shrieked, "GET IT OFF ME!"

Pulling and twisting with all his might he tried to yank himself free of its grasp, but it was futile; the parasite was too quick to escape and dug its tentacles deep inside his body, worming their way into his chest to reach his spinal cord.

"AHHHH- GOD HELP ME! AHHHHHH-"

 _ **RATATATATATATATATA!**_

The marine fell in a heap, lifeless and riddled with the Spartan's MA5 rounds.

"Jesus Christ!" Selena shrieked, frozen to spot the entire time.

"Holy fuck!" the wounded marine screamed, "You turned him into Swiss cheese!"

"Sergeant," Kyle said, ignoring both of them and quickly turning back to point his rifle across the field.

The man had rushed to the end of the Pelican's "blood tray" to help when he heard the Flood closing in on them, but by the time he had got there it was too late to save his subordinates before they had been injured and killed. He stared at the Spartan II now who was still steadily discharging rounds, completely horrified and fixated on the mangled, half mutated corpse of a man he had known for over four years.

"Get this bird in the air, now."

"Sir, I-"

" _ **UGGGGGGH!"**_

Three more combat forms made it through Kyle's line of fire, perforated with oozing wounds. They charged the Pelican and bounded for the blood tray. The blue super soldier bounded up into the air, releasing the pistol grip of his firearm with his right hand and grabbing the combat knife from his collarbone sheath. He jammed it into the closest one in midair, tackling it to the ground and ramming it further inside its grotesque flesh. Yanking the blade free with a vicious upward twist he shoved the gore covered, twenty centimeter blade back into its black sleeve. The unnatural life faded from the soldier's body as the Spartan swapped his hands' positions on his MA5 and emptied its last few rounds into the second. Number three was right on top of the sergeant when it was suddenly pulled from the gradient, being hurled aside and impacting against the soil with an unceremonious flurry of dirt. Sensory tentacles whirled agitatedly as the parasite forced its meat puppet to rise to its feet cumbersomely. In the blink of an eye Kyle's Magnum was off his thigh and in his hand, loosing two precision shots of explosive rounds into the parasite's ill-gotten body. Withering and trickling its bile it collapsed completely. All of it had happened so fast that the only thing the marines and Selena had seen clearly were the deaths of the mutated hosts.

"Holy shit sir!" the injured marine shouted in admiration. Kyle turned to look down at him, tilting his head as if scrutinizing him. Visibly the man's veins bulged and pulsed along his neck, his skin tone slowly shifting into a pale yellow-green.

"That was ama-"

 _ **Bam!**_

 __The marine slumped over from a Magnum bullet directly inserted into his cerebral cortex. He was dead before he even knew he had been shot.

"CAPTAIN!" Selena screamed in shock, "WHY!?"

"He was infected from his wound," Kyle explained silently, hopping onto the Pelican swiftly with the other marine right behind, firing a few more bursts before rushing past to sit down near the civilians..

"Get us in the air sergeant."

"Roger that sir," Cohen nodded, pressing his hand to the side of his helmet.

"Take off, now. Everyone's in."

" _Copy that,"_ a staticky voice answered over his helmet's earpiece loud enough for Selena and Kyle to hear.

"How do you know that?" Selena persisted, the trauma not quite faded.

"His wound," he simply said, pushing her into a seat on the starboard side of the ship next to the bay opening, "it was transforming him."

"They...they can do that?"

"Sometimes, yes."

"That poor man..." she whispered while the boarding ramp rose to shut them all inside the belly of the metal bird, "both of them...God that was terrible..."

"At least we made it out alive," Donna huffed from the other side of the Pelican.

"Of course," Sherry muttered, "that's all you care about isn't it you selfish cu-"

A loud bang shook the dropship as it hastily rose in the air, causing it to yaw sharply to port.

"What the Hell!?" David shouted, gripping the side bars of his restraint tightly.

" _Hang on sir!"_ the pilot's electronic voice shouted out to Kyle over the blood tray's intercom.

" _We've got enemies attempting to board! I'll shake them off!"_

"What does he mean exactly by shak- AH!" Selena shrieked and fell from her seat into the Spartan's chest as the craft veered over to starboard abruptly.

Everyone seated held fast to their restraints, the sergeant clamping his fingers around one of the handles set above them. Small arms fire pinged against the hull of the Pelican as it continued to list and circle counterclockwise. The passengers could physically feel a weight fall from the ship's wing, then the ship leveling out as the pilot continued on a speedy climb upwards. Kyle pressed his friend back into her seat and pulled her restraint down, beginning to sit down across from, but noticed a bright flash from the small, narrow viewport of the Pelican's hatch through the dark and thick green fog below. At that moment something rocked the craft violently and sent them on a rapid downward trajectory, prompting the pilot to transmit his voice over the intercom once more.

" _Shit! Sir, we've taken critical damage! Starboard-aft engine isn't responding! All my sensors are scrambled from this damned interference down here, I've got no fucking clue what's going on in any direction!"_

"Stay lay and maintain speed; wait until we've passed out of anti-air range and-"

 _ **BOOM!**_

 __The aircraft rocked even more vehemently, careening forward as the man behind the controls struggled to right their course. Alarms began to beep loudly and the red glow of the interior lights flashed like strobe lights in a club.

 _"DAMMIT! We're losing aft-port now sir! One more hit and she'll fall apart! We've gotta get lower sir!"_

"Do it," Kyle ordered sternly.

" _Yes sir!"_ the pilot answered dutifully, the Pelican's shifting height in the air physically pressing on the passengers for a moment.

"Can you still clear the atmosphere?" he called out, thinking quickly.

" _If we don't raise altitude now the engines will stall out completely; we're losing fuel and airspeed velocity too rapidly! Even if we do get past we've got a fifty-fifty chance that she'll burn up and plummet before we even leave the troposphere sir!"_

"Open the hatch, do you copy?" he ordered sternly.

" _I copy sir!"_

The boarding ramp lowered with a disconcerting rattle, revealing an enormous moving mass of deformed silhouettes roughly two hundred meters behind the Pelican, beneath the craft's altitude of thirty-five feet. Above the opening the tail engines sputtered and spewed smoke, making the dropship limp along at a slow speed of about seventy-two kilometers an hour. The earth sped by beneath them, small sparse trees and craters dotting the landscape. Most were splintered at the bows and the ones that still stood were barren and charred, very few of them having any leaves left.

Gripping the overhanging shelf for storage space above his seat Sierra 096 stood up to survey the area below and before himself. His HUD's zoom and thermal functionality showed the distinct glows of forty millimeter chain guns and medium range anti-air rocket emplacements clumsily set atop several high-rises on the outer fringes of the city.

Beneath his helmet the Spartan scowled and considered his options. They could chance gliding over the land then raise elevation once more, but the way the engines were sputtering and the rapidly deteriorating integrity led his mind to picture them unavoidably crashing and the Flood feasting upon every occupant. For what seemed like an eternity he thought back to every minute leading up to this moment- the day he was taken from his home fourteen years ago, the eight years spent tirelessly training day and night on Reach with his only friends, their faces flashing in his mind's eye. And their final moments before death took every one of them away:

Mikaela, gunned down with sniper fire, ripping her armor apart and leaving her lay in a pool of her own blood. Giovanni, overwhelmed and infected by Flood parasites covering him from head to toe. Summer, sacrificing herself aboard an abandoned installation and watching it blossom into a small, nuclear star, helpless inside an escape pod barreling through the cold, dark void of space. Then finally Jay, his head laying in his arms. Battered. Broken. Choking on his own blood. And then his blind rage when the life left his eyes as he had beaten the Spartan IVs who had took his only living brother away from him to death.

Sierra 096's eyes drifted to the left, resting on his friend's covered face. She watched him with the same dread filled silence she had from the very beginning. After all this time, he thought he would never have a reason to care about anyone ever again. Thinking of his Spartan family now and the memories he had remembered of her from the dark recesses of his mind tore at his psyche and the very strings of his hard, icy heart.

"Pilot," Kyle said using his helmet's close range transmitter, his voice coming through the pilot's helmet receivers crisply as well as being audible for Selena to hear, "prepare to ascend and pitch sharply to port. I'm disembarking."

" _Roger that sir,"_ the man answered, _"we'll come around to retrieve you on your signal."_

Kyle paused, and with one word he sealed his fate forever.

"Negative," the Spartan answered.

"What!?" Selena cried out over the sound of high-speed winds and the irregular roar of the tail engines, her SMG and Kyle's two strapped on weapons bouncing and clattering against their armor.

"Coming back for me will mean certain death for all of you; the Flood will overwhelm this Pelican and breach the hull. I cannot allow that."

" _Our orders were to extract you and the data Captain! We can't fail that mission!"_

"You won't."

Selena watched the Spartan kneel down in front of her and lift his helmet up a little to break the seal with his black undersuit. With one hand he slid two fingers beneath the thin armor covering his neck, producing a thin, shining chain. He ripped it off his neck and pulled it out to reveal a pair of heavily scratched dog-tags, each bordered by black, rubbery silencers. Tags in hand he pressed his blue helmet all the way down again, the hiss it made so quiet it was indistinguishable due to the commotion outside. Pushing them deep inside his curled fist he dug into his belt and withdrew the tiny data drive she had seen him use in the hospital so long ago, pressing it inside his fist as well.

"Mrs. Ackerson has the data."

"You can't go Spartan! You'll die down there!" Selena begged. The Spartan took her hand in his and clamped the other over it, pressing the tags and drive into her open palm and calmly spoke in her helmet's receiver:

"Give the data drive to the Admiral; let no one else take it from you."

"You take it to him!" she yelled, trying to pull her hand from him.

"You're not going out there!"

Kyle wordlessly closed her fingers around the two items gently, taking his hands away.

"Don't leave me," she sniffled, "you're the best friend I've ever had..."

"I'll always be with you."

The woman's tears swelled in her eyes as she felt the Captain's hand rub against the cheek of her helmet tenderly for one, brief moment.

"Get ready to close the hatch," he told the pilot calmly.

" _Yes sir...good luck, sir..."_ the man spoke quietly.

He turned his head away and stood at his full height, grabbing the MA5 from his back and putting it across his chest. Silently he marched to the end of the ramp and turned his head to look at her for the last time.

"Good bye, Selena."

And just like that, he fell from the Pelican, landing with a hard crunch against the ground. Immediately he opened fire, sprinting with lightning speed across the war-torn landscape. Selena watched him run further and further from her seat before the ramp began to raise once more. When it finally closed it seemed to resonate with a hopeless, echoing clang. Her helmet hung low, staring into the balled fist on her lap. Through tear filled eyes she shakily opened her fingers to take the small piece of hardware the Spartan had given her and slid it into her belt, fumbling with the pouch opening twice. Then she took the super soldier's dog-tags and held them up for her to see. All that was inscribed on them was:

 _S-096_

Nothing else. That was all he had to show who he was. All he would leave behind in this world. The thought of it added to the pain she felt in her heart. She convulsed and wailed inside the isolation of her Beta-5 helmet.

The other passengers hung their heads low as well, even David and Donna did despite their strong dislike of the man. Gunnery Sergeant Cohen moved down the line to stand next to her, trying to think of comforting words to say. He could find none. Instead he just stood quietly by as the woman jerked and pulled her helmet off, unveiling her tear stained face. Thick trails dripped down her cheeks as she sobbed softly.

"It's not fair," she weeped, "it's not fair..."

She held the small, stainless steel necklace up in the palms of her hands, the small plates turning over in her hands from her soft convulsions. Through her clouded vision she thought she saw something etched into the back of one of them. Sniffling and wiping away some of her tears she held it closer to her face. In thin, crude, jagged lines a name was carved:

 _Kyle_

Selena blinked once, widening her eyes to see if she had read write. Under the red light and with unimpaired vision, she read the name again:

 _Kyle._

 _No..._ she thought. Her mind drifted to every moment she had spent with the Spartan, recounting everything he had said and done.

 _"My friend..."_ the Spartan's voice echoed in her ear.

 _How can it be..._

 _"We're already friends."_

 _We had just met, I never knew him from before..._

 _"Because I was trained to do this since I was six."_

 _He died from heart failure. In his final days he claimed he had no memory of me or anyone else..._

 _"I'll always be with you."_

 _That's just something people say to you to make you feel better when they know you're about to die. But...only someone that knows you would say something like that...someone who cares about you.._

 _"Good bye, Selena."_

 _My name...he...he...never said it before..._

The tags rattled in her hands as stared transfixed at them.

 _Kyle_

 _It can't be..._

 _Kyle_

 _But it's his name..._

 _Kyle_

 _And the photo..._

 _Kyle_

 _He saved it for me..._

 _Kyle_

 _And he gave me this..._

 _Kyle_

 _He wouldn't do that unless..._

 _Kyle_

 _He knew...he knew..._

 _ **"HE KNEW!"**_

The blood tray's occupants jumped in their seats as Selena slammed her restraint up and pushed the marine against the port side, wild-eyed and ballistic.

"We have to go back for him!" she yelled at the man.

"Holy shit!" Cohen shouted, staring at her like she was some type of animal about to kill him, "Ma'am I know you've been through alot and you miss him but-"

"You don't understand! I know him!"

"What the Hell are you going on about?" Donna asked.

"He's my friend!"

"We know honey!" Sherry shouted.

"But that doesn't mean you have to go crazy and-"

"My _childhood_ friend!"

Sherry fell silent at looked to her father, baffled. The old man, just as surprised turned to speak to the woman:

"He's what?"

"His name is on his dog-tags!" she shouted.

"You mean 'Sierra zero-niner-?'" the sergeant started to ask.

" _ **KYLE!"**_ Selena wailed.

" _ **HIS NAME IS KYLE!"**_

"What?!" Cohen asked in bewilderment. Forcefully she shoved the back of the tag with the carved name on it into his face, making the crudely written letters big and clear for him.

"You people took him from his home when he was only six-years-old!"

"I didn't do anything!" Cohen defended himself.

"I'm just a sergeant in the corps!"

"Six years old!?" Tania yelled.

"Wha-what!?" Jason blurted out.

"That can't be right!" Credence exclaimed.

"It's the truth!" Selena fell against the starboard seats and fumbled in her belt for the photograph she had, unfolding it and holding it up for them all to see.

"This is him! With his parents and me!"

Sherry reached beside her and took the picture she had extended for them, staring down at the young, happy face of the Spartan as a child. She glanced up at Selena, then at the little girl next to him, then back up at her again. Then the woman turned the picture over to read the names of the people who were in it: _Ray, Wendy, Kyle, and Selena- 12th of February, 2602._

"Oh my god" she whispered, "...she...that really is you..."

"Let me see!" Donna demanded, reaching her arm out across the bay. Carefully Sherry held it out for her, which the Asian woman promptly snatched and held up to the light to see. She turned the paper over as well, her sour, annoyed expression quickly transforming into one of great shock and disdain.

"Dear God..."

"Let me take a peek," Jason said. She held it flat over her lap for the man and pregnant woman next to her to see. After a few brief moments she turned it over, letting them read the names.

"Good Lord..." Tania gasped.

"Well shit..." Jason mumbled, "it's gotta be true..."

Donna handed the photo across the bay again for the old Master Chief to take, who studied it just as closely as the rest had.

"How close in age are you two?" he asked?"

"He's seven months older than me," Selena started to sniffle again, "I was born in September- that was taken on his birthday."

"So, you mean to tell me he's only..."

"Twenty years old..." David finished for him, beginning to glare at the Gunnery Sergeant who had up to this point stood quietly watching them, tight-lipped and very confused and shocked.

"You bastards are sick," he scowled, "no wonder he acted like a psycho. You fucked with his head."

"I-" Cohen started.

"How can you do that to a child!" Tania shouted at the young man, hate in her eyes.

"I thought we could trust the UNSC!"

"Our own government is lying to us," Donna spat disgustedly, "and they're using mindless drones like you to do their bidding."

"What else have you been keeping from us you dirty motherfucker!?" Jason yelled at Cohen.

"I'm not hiding anything!" Cohen desperately pleaded.

"I had no idea who the Captain was! None of us did!"

"Liar!" Selena cried, new tears running down her cheeks.

"Ma'am, I'm not! I'm just a rifleman!"

"He wouldn't have known," Credence spoke up, making everyone turn to look at him.

"They don't tell us enlisted men anything. Whoever made your friend a Spartan II wouldn't have told the rest of the UNSC. Those types of secrets only the brass would know. Or the Office of Naval Intelligence..." the man trailed off, thinking.

"That's it...ONI's made more Spartans...and they decided not to tell anyone about it this time around...Grand-dad sure was right about those spooks..."

"Why didn't he tell me before..." Selena buried her face in her hands, trembling.

"Honey..." Sherry said sympathetically, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Whatever the reason I...I'm sure it was just to keep you safe..."

"Why...why him...he was so innocent..."

With that she fell into another long crying fit, Sherry keeping a hand on her shoulder empathetically the entire time.

 _ **"WHY HIM!?"**_


	5. Chapter 5- Spartans Never Die

_Spartans Never Die_

 _24 June, 2616_

 _2132 hours_

 _ **Ratatatatatata!**_

 _ **"Uggggggggh!"**_

 _Keep running. Keep firing. Never stop, Spartan. Never stop._

Kyle-zero-niner-six raced through the thickening, spore laden fog back towards Adros, darting and dashing between dozens upon dozens of converted humans, pale moonlight shining over everything to illuminate his way. His finger squeezed his rifle's trigger tightly, spraying FMJ rounds through everything between him and the high-rises. The sound of constant rifle fire deafened the raging thoughts in his mind, the memories and flashes of all the death in his life quieting in the company of the relentless, unfeeling, pitiless rhythm of the MA5C. Its recoil reverberated in his ceramic bones, the feeling of each casing ejecting and the sound it made when it bounced against the ground spurring him on to keep up the fire more and more. Zigging and zagging past the inaccurate and clumsy bursts of enemy fire he punched a rushing Flood soldier directly before him at full speed, making it sail through the air, moaning and shrieking nonsense words all the while. The magazine from his weapon fell to the earth with a small clunk, a replacement immediately slapped into place as the discarded box was left far behind. The fire resumed:

 _ **Ratata! Ratata! Ratatatata!**_

In the far right corner of the Mk VI's HUD the ammunition counter rapidly depleted. _44/237, 43, 42, 41..._

Kyle tore a grenade from his belt, lobbing it several dozen yards before him. It impacted against the grass, creating a brilliant explosion that scattered a fast approaching squad of parasites. Their bodies were violently torn apart; mutated, alien appendages shot across the field in all directions along with bits of rotted organs that had been decentralized and rendered useless by the Flood infestation. The Spartan charged ever-forward over the small smoking crater his frag had made, hefting his rifle straight out in front of himself. He continued to fire with one hand as his other reached for another M9, squeezing the handle and hurling up in a long arc.

Atop one of the buildings a Flood infected Emerald Cove soldier struggled to obtain a lock on the fleeing Pelican now miles away with a stationary missile pod. The grenade bounced on the roof once then skidded several more feet to land beneath the mount, detonating and making the heavy ordinance break off the emplacement and clunk loudly several times. The infected human operating it was cast aside several meters, plummeting off the side of the seven-story building in several severed, charred pieces.

Catching the attention of the other Flood attempting to shoot down the dropship, they directed their remaining two missile pods and five anti-air machine guns on him. The triple barreled M41 anti-air guns spun hot, spewing a hailstorm of fifty-caliber rounds. Sierra 096 dodged and rolled to avoid the deadly lines of fire, his shields glowing brightly as dozens of rounds grazed and impacted against the intangible barrier around his armor. Missiles exploded behind him, raining debris from above. Kyle returned fire all the while, pelting the infected hosts with his own cartridges. Two of the combat forms ceased fire on the fifties.

Lobbing a third grenade as high as he could the Captain leapt onto the side of the building that had been the position of the first missile pod to be neutralized. The seal of his rifle slapped against his back plate, his fingers digging into the surface of the tall structure. He scaled the the wall with the grace and agility of a primate, large black digits clinging to anything he could use as a handhold. The Spartan even punched and kicked holes into the concrete as he ascended to create his own places to latch onto.

Kyle swung himself over the edge of the top, planting his feet firmly and drawing the SMG still dangling above his waist with his left hand. Down below the combat forms threw themselves against the face of the edifice, closing the distance to his elevated point almost as quickly as he had. The man raced across the rooftop towards the missile pod that had been forcibly severed from its tripod.

About ten meters away on an adjacent construction one of the Flood abandoned its light anti-air gun and jumped across the space between the two locations, landing so hard on its ankles that were it still a normal person it would have fractured both. It rushed headlong at Sierra 096, who promptly raised his weapon to fill the infection form in its chest with a dozen five-by-twenty-three millimeter rounds as he ran. The body twisted and collapsed, twitching once.

Skidding to a halt next to the blackened anti-armor weapon he clipped his submachine gun back to its belt and hefted the launcher up with both arms by its forward and rear grips, lifting the cumbersome object using the strength of his legs. The top-down guided missile system linked with his HUD, putting a thick diamond-shaped reticle in the center of his view. At the upper right he glanced at the projectile count beneath the weapon's icon; seven missiles remained within its internal magazine.

Kyle carried the weapon toward the edge of the roof, planting his left foot firmly on top the ledge. His upper body pivoted counterclockwise, causing the pod to move along with him. The targeting system locked onto the second mounted missile launcher twenty meters away, set atop the adjacent high-rise that the neutralized Flood had bounded from. Giving off a loud, steady beep the targeting reticle instantaneously changed from pale blue to bright red, the small words _"Target locked"_ appearing in a second smaller diamond inside the primary diamond. It flashed red and white repeatedly, urging the Spartan to fire. A small fire erupted from the forward facing tube with a thin white trail arcing straight up into the air. Moments later the released self-guided missile met its mark, decimating the Flood soldier who had been operating the mounted ordinance along with two of the five fifty-caliber turrets on either side, still trained on the Pelican. It tried to rip the LAU-65D/SGM-151 off with it and evade the Spartan's attack, but it had acted seconds too late, the other Flood swiveling to face him just in time to catch the explosion as well. The heat incinerated their swollen flesh, the launcher detonating violently and the turrets shattering into warped, superheated pieces. The flames blossomed like a small sun for a brief second, casting debris and shrapnel all about.

The high-rise's uppermost floor collapsed from the impact, roof caving in and crumbling down on the space beneath it. Its outer edifices were blasted open and dropped like a miniature avalanche of concrete and steel. Flood combat forms that had been scaling the surface were buried beneath the rubble, a third of them dying from being pulverized by the weight and speed of the chunks while the rest struggled to dig free, escaping with shattered bones.

Before the first explosion's shockwave had even dissipated the Captain had set his reticle on a new target; the final launcher unit thirty meters away on a building roughly ten feet higher than the one he stood on. With all the strength in his legs Kyle vaulted over the ledge as he prepared to fire, evading the Flood swarming his position. Brandishing multiple submachine guns and sidearms they opened up on his back, the rounds zapping and fizzling out against the gold bubble of his energy shield. In mid air the guidance system began to zero in on the last tripod. Within microseconds it beeped.

 _Target locked._

The missile curved up through the atmosphere with a strong gust of wind, whirring loudly and crashing into the tall structure. A great thundering noise rocked the impact site, obliterating the infected human and the last pod.

Crunching against the dirty concrete of the collapsing seven-story he had just shot, spinning on his feet to unleash the remaining salvo at his pursuers. Against the tumbling and crashing sounds of the man-made constructions falling to pieces beneath and above, five missiles tore through the sound barrier and burst against the dozens of parasite-driven humans. Each explosion reverberated loudly, all five fusing together to form a singular piercing boom. Giving way to the force the structure fell in on itself and toppled over towards where the Spartan stood, knocking it over like a domino.

Kyle discarded the emptied launcher, letting it fall like a sack of bricks. He dashed across the low-slope rooftop like an Olympic champion sprinter, the ground rapidly collapsing mere feet behind him. He sprung through the air, slapping the side of another building with his titanium covered form, climbing up it as fast as he could. The momentum of the seventy-foot-tall dominoes forced them to slam into the space just beneath the Spartan's feet. Hastily he propelled himself forward with his arms and legs like a slingshot, flying up several meters. Feeling himself tilt and begin to sink he forced himself to ascend the height even faster, feeling his muscles burn slightly.

Tipping without any sign of stopping the blue super soldier rose to his feet and ran along the face of the doomed work of human architecture, jumping once more onto a short three-story, flat roof apartment complex. The force of the impact dully shot up his calves.

 _All targets neutralized,_ Kyle thought to himself, looking at the destruction he had caused. Eyes running over the rubble and gazing through the rising smoke and dust, he saw the remains of the final machine guns amongst the bits and pieces littering several full city blocks. He breathed deeply, the steady sounds of his respiration filling his ears and drowning out the moans and shrieks of the Flood who would be upon him once more very soon.

The Pelican slowly drifted away in the distance, its dark trail of smoke only visible because of the bright fires of its thrusters. The craft penetrated the cloud covering and vanished into the night sky, out of the Spartan's view. It would be the last time he ever saw a friendly dropship again, he knew. Rifling through his thigh pouch he withdrew the five pairs of dog-tags and held them in his palm.

 _I've kept you waiting long enough._

 _ **"UGGGGGGGH!"**_ The sound of hundreds of joined, distorted, inhuman wails of hunger made Kyle wrap his fingers tightly over the steel plates.

 _But I will not go quietly._

Sierra 096 shoved the necklaces back into his soft case, buckling it and grabbing the shotgun slung over his chestplate. He slid the sling over his head and shoulder as he gripped it, letting it dangle freely. Clicking the safety of his shotgun off, he looked at his motion sensor as he raised it. All he could see was scarlet; a sea of scarlet, engulfing everything.

No sooner had his eyes left the circular readout seven combat forms had vaulted over the edge of the roof he stood on, tentacles writhing and claws reaching out to tear him apart. Unphased, he pulled the trigger and unleashed the devastating fury of the eight-gauge M90 Shotgun. Each blast was accompanied by the brief pump of its undercarriage, chambering a new shell:

 _ **Boom! Click-click. Boom! Click-click. Boom!**_

 __Every corpse in the path of the fifteen tightly-packed pellets was brutally blown apart, limbs and grotesque remains landing around Kyle. Some missed their mark entirely, falling to the ground below.

Armored fingers began to push the individually stored shells on his bandoliers out, pressing them into the top of the M90 as quickly as he could. Four replacement cartridges were loaded before he spun on his heel, firing again.

A Flood infected woman was hefting a shotgun of her own with one arm, aiming it at the Spartan's head. The Soellkraft shell's pellets flayed her chest cavity, punching a hole in what looked like was her left breast and eviscerating the parasite using her naked body as an extension of its own primal will. Sierra 096 took the second shotgun off the ground while the monster collapsed, rolling and firing it once in his left hand in a knelt down position. Two hostiles were caught in the cone of fire just as they were rearing their twisted, ugly heads over the edge of the flat roof. Then he raised his own weapon, pointing it off to the right.

 _ **Boom!**_

Another dropped, this one brandishing a dirty machete. With a hard thrust of his arms he pumped both weapons, eyes darting around him. The horde was rapidly surrounding him, more and more contorted and mutated figures rising over the three-story walls. Others bounded from up on high above, pelting him with bullets as he defiantly blasted the monsters on every side. His shields glowed brightly, making dull impact noises in his ears from every bit of damage they took. Red arrows pointed in all different directions and angles, displaying where he was taking fire from.

Two more shells from each of his weapons thundered out, barely doing anything to slow the advance of the corpse monsters. He threw the empty second shotgun at one of the beefier looking combat forms, the metal thudding against its torso hard and sending its sensory tendrils in a frenzy. It lunged for him, only to be met by a close range rain of pellets. It slumped against Kyle who shrugged him off.

An arm smacked against Kyle's back, knocking him forward and making his shields beep agitatedly. He turned to retaliate, but was met with another blow from its tentacles. They whipped him across the visor, throwing him to the ground with a clunk.

The Spartan growled and pulled the trigger. His attacker flew backwards, but was quickly replaced by four more like it. He shot again, killing one. As he was about to pump the gun a bone blade rose in a lethal arc, barely catching it by raising his shotgun as an impromptu shield with both outstretch arms. Deformed bone and mass produced metal locked in a deadly clash. The Flood began to raise its other clawed arm, its comrades doing the same. In seconds they would tear Sierra 096 apart.

 _ **BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM!**_

The Spartan had shoved his shotgun up against the Flood locked in a stalemate with him, giving him a precious second to grab his Magnum and unload it contents into the balloon-shaped organisms burrowed inside every one of the assailants. One had still managed to land a blow on him, shattering his shields completely and putting a deep dent into his thigh plate. Throwing the bodies off himself and covering his armor in their pulp and bodily fluids he ejected the spent mag of his M6G, firing more as he rose to his feet. His shields beeped furiously, the energy bar in the top of his visor flashing with a red warning light.

" _ **AGGGGGH!"**_

Kyle flew off his feet again towards the edge of the roof, the full force of the blow knocking the wind out of his lungs. The M90 was separated from his grip, bouncing against the concrete and crashing to the ground below. Rolling over and continuing to unload until his magazine went dry, he gritted his teeth and fumbled with another full container of Magnum cartridges. The slide slid forward when its well of ammunition was replenished.

Before he could continue firing a clawed hand slashed against his visor, a hairline crack appearing across the the gold and distorting his vision somewhat. Angrily Kyle turned the sidearm on the combat form that struck him and perforated its tissue with explosive rounds. It was a futile act of aggression; the Flood was upon him once more, grabbing and tearing at his armor. There was only one thing he could do; he reached for his last frag grenade, struggling and fighting off the infected for every inch of movement he need. His thumb pressed the trigger and he let it fall beside him.

 _ **BOOM!**_

The explosion scattered the ravenous Flood and made Kyle tumble and fall off the side of the building, crashing against the pavement on his hands and knees. He winced and gritted his teeth, gasping once. Black charred marks covered his chest, back, and abdomen unevenly along with the cartridges of shotgun and M7 ammo, the bandoliers and belts bearing many tears.

Pulling his SMG from its clip he aimed above himself at the Flood now spilling over the edge of the apartment complex, going full auto with it as he fired his semi-auto hand cannon as well. Dozens more went limp from his barrage, but not enough to soften their numbers. He ran over to his shotgun which had skidded into the middle of the road, bypassing several destroyed cars and rubble. Slapping the once again emptied sidearm to his thigh he swapped the tiny submachine gun to his right hand, ejecting the small box shaped mag out of the side and pushing in another, cycling the charging handle. The beeping in his ears stopped, being substituted by the low hum of recharging shields.

Just as he was spinning to fire again a soldier rammed into him with a muscle bound shoulder, halting the progress of his shields' cycling. Caseless ammunition ripped through its limbs. A tentacle that had sprouted above its shoulder swung out to knock the weapon from Kyle's hand. Catching it with his left hand instead he pulled the thing closer, riddling the infection form with an unceasing hose of lead. It struggled to free itself and strike the Spartan again to no avail, being shoved away once the puppeteer had been disposed of.

Not giving him a moment of respite another rushed headlong at Sierra 096, driving its serrated blade into his side to the left of his stomach, right below his chest piece. It pierced the shields and cracked through the black undersuit, impaling the Spartan and forcing him to drop the M7.

 _"Agh!"_ Kyle screamed in pain, stopping the thing before it drove it all the way through.

Viciously he pummeled the combat form, grabbing its head's liquified neck and ramming his fist over and over into the parasite's wriggling red tendrils. Once it went limp Kyle slammed his right forearm down onto the arm still inside his body. The bone splintered and broke away from the rest of the corpse, leaving a long, wicked piece of bone protruding from his armor. Blood seeped around the wound, staining the armor. Before he was ready he was slashed across the face by another organic blade. Kyle reeled and tumbled, more cracks spreading through his visor like a web. The Mk VI's HUD readouts were totally obscured by the damage or began to fail altogether. He tasted blood in his mouth.

Mercilessly the Flood lit his body up with a hail of small arms fire, denting and weakening his armor steadily. Kyle grabbed his MA5 from his back and returned fire from his spot on the ground, rolling and shifting to avoid some of the bullets while he pushed himself away against the ground in a reverse prone position. The Flood tirelessly advanced, fearing neither pain nor death. They couldn't feel pain, they never tired; they would win, one way or another.

Kyle rose to his feet and swapped his rifle to his left hand to draw his Magnum, cumbersomely reloading it. He held the sidearm up at eye level once he was finished, still taking dozens of direct hits and glancing blows that chipped away at his armor's blue paint. His shields beeped constantly, his HUD no longer flashing red as all the readouts could no longer be displayed properly from the trauma the helmet had sustained. Holding the MA5 against his hip he fired with both weapons into the throng mere yards away.

Carrier forms began to emerge from the line, their large, bulbous bodies waddling towards him on thick meaty appendages that acted as legs. They burst prematurely when Kyle subjected them to his weapons' discharge, causing dozens of new infection forms to be released. The small, spider-legged organisms scuttled towards him with the intent of infecting him.

"You won't take me," Kyle spat, pointing his rifle down to kill them. It clicked once.

Instead he angled his pistol down, squeezing its trigger.

 _Click._

The first set of parasites latched onto his lower body and began to hurriedly climb up his titanium exoskeleton. Desperately he batted them off, dropping his empty rifle and jumping to the ground to splatter some of them with the crushing force of the impact and being beneath his one thousand pound body. All but one popped open and sprayed over his armor but one, which wrapped its red tendrils around his neck and tried to pry his helmet off. Kyle raised his Magnum and pistol-whipped it, making its sickly yellow-green fluids splash over his hand, weapon, and visor. He reached up with the back of his left hand to wipe away the bile-like fluid.

He leapt for his rifle again, slapping the Magnum to his thigh so he could reload the automatic weapon. The remaining infection forms pounced on him as he attempted to swap the cartridge holders, making him fight and struggle. More thin tendrils and tentacles wrapped around his neck and all over his body. Gasping and fighting for air he slung his arms about, shaking them free and training his loaded firearm at them. He emptied all thirty-two rounds into their balloon-shaped bodies without a second more of hesitation, feeling the recoil that each round put the MA5 through.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the sweeping arm of a combat form. He moved to block the blow with his rifle; it shot from his hands, twisted sharply into an "L" shape as it collided with the road. Defiantly the Spartan punched it, making it reel back a step. But Kyle found himself on his back again, overwhelmed by the sheer retaliatory response of the near limitless amount of Flood soldiers there to assist their infected friend. A few yards away he saw his shotgun lying on the blacktop where he had been moving to before. If he could just get to it...

He pulled his combat knife from his collarbone, hurling it into one of them as he scrambled on his hands and feet towards the weapon, his stomach burning and pain shooting up through his body. Something wrapped around his ankle, trying to pull him back. Without looking he kicked it as hard as he could with his free foot, not stopping until the fleshy appendage had been pulverized.

With great effort Kyle finally reached his M90, his blood and pus soaked fingers grabbing its grip and pulling it towards him. He rolled over and fired.

 _ **BOOM!**_

Several Flood were blasted off their feet as he pumped the weapon to fire again.

 _ **BOOM!**_

Several more dead.

A Flood began to drive its bone blade toward his visor. Kyle raised his weapon higher, everything seeming to slow down to a crawl. He squeezed the trigger, the moans and howls of the Flood around him drowning out everything.

Everything went silent, the world black.

Black as the night.

 **The End**


End file.
